


E Tenebrae Et Lux

by LunaMax1214, mitisvenatrix



Series: Teandraverse [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Culture, Angst, Banter, Bdsm later, Dancing, Darker Nature, DomGarrus is best Garrus, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Slow Burn, Sparring, Turian, dark side, darkness and light, smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 162,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaMax1214/pseuds/LunaMax1214, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitisvenatrix/pseuds/mitisvenatrix
Summary: The more things change, the more they stay the same. The continuing story of Garrus and Teandra, as they struggle with the darkness within each other... and themselves.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying not to leave anyone out the loop, but a reading of Partners, Comrades, Friends and Omega would not go amiss, as there are essential parts of the plot contained in those two works. However, should you choose to forge onward, here are a few essential tidbits: Teandra Shepard is an Earthborn/Sole Survivor/sometime Paragon/sometime Renegade. She "romanced" Kaidan, who survived during ME1, as did the Council. She and Garrus had a 'buddy cop' relationship in ME1. Think "Bad Boys," or more like the protagonists from the television shows, "Castle" or "Lucifer."

_A hundred days have made me older_

_Since the last time that I saw your pretty face_

_A thousand lies have made me colder_

_And I don't think I can look at this the same_

Three Doors Down - "Here Without You"

 

**Prologue- The Awakening**

" _Garrus..."_

That single word served as a rooting point for my addled brain, anchoring me violently back in reality. As if it had only been waiting for me to pay attention, my body instantly assaulted me with a variety of sensations: hungry, thirsty, cold, and the need to pee. Any one of these would have been bad enough. In combination, they were more annoying than that time Garrus had played keep away with my pudding cup...

Any smile that memory would have inspired was interrupted by the Goddess saying, "Shepard, you have to get up. This station is under attack." The slight Australian accent carried an air of arrogance, one that immediately made me question my faith _in_ said Goddess. She sure didn't sound like I expected her to, but then again, if I'd created the universe _I_ probably would sound a little holier-than-thou too.

_Wait... why would I be expecting the voice of the Goddess, anyway?_

Memories came back with force as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I could feel my eyes widening as realization dawned.

I remembered.

The _Normandy_ being blown apart. Joker, that stubborn jackass, thinking going down with the ship was a good idea.

Oh, shit.

The broken air tube. Taking my last breath. Garrus's voice calling my name as the final blackness overtook me, almost like he was actually there.

I remembered _everything_.

I had been dead. I mean, _really_ dead. And I'd _known_ it. Felt it. _Wait, can someone actually "feel" dead?_ I physically shook my head at my own musings. Looking around at what could only be described as a lab, I knew this sure wasn't the Summerland. Not the one I believed I'd be in, anyway. Every person's version of the afterlife was supposed to resemble something of her choosing, but with my track record, maybe I should have expected I'd get screwed over in that regard, too. Spirits damn it all, wouldn't I _ever_ get to rest?

Would it ever actually be over?

"Shepard, get UP. There's a pistol and armor in that crate." The tone was more insistent now, barking orders at me as if she believed that would _really_ make a difference in my reaction.

 _Will you shut the hell up, lady. I'm getting there,_ I said, or at least, I _would_ have, if my vocal cords hadn't felt as if I had been gargling sand.

...like I hadn't used them in years.

I cleared my throat painfully, as I shoved the implications of that revelation aside, and tried again. "Where the hell AM I?"

"We don't have time to go over specifics. Terrorists are attacking this station to kill you. You need to MOVE." _That cinches it; definitely not the Goddess. Deities do NOT sound annoyed when they need something from you._

"Fine, fine! Keep your panties on, I'm going." Action suddenly overcame my lethargy, and I made my way to the container she had indicated, donning the armor quickly before examining the weapon within. My annoyance surged to new levels as I looked at the "bounty" the "goddess" had so "graciously" provided.

This should tell you how bad things looked from where I was standing, if I was using that many mental air quotes in one sentence.

"Really? Not only do you give me a gun with no ammo, but it's a fucking little _pistol?_ I feel like I'm gonna break this thing." I didn't figure she would get the reference, and I wasn't disappointed. Hell, _most_ people didn't get my references. Even the ones that everyone should have known.

Like that old saying about only resting when you're dead. _Apparently,_ I thought ironically as I moved through the first doorway, picking up a clip as I ran, _that doesn't even apply to_ _ **me**_ _._

* * *

Omega... this place reminded me of Charleston with a forcefulness reminiscent of homesickness. Not that I'd really ever felt that emotion. You have to have an actual home for that to happen, but it's the closest thing I could find to describe how I felt. It was probably the first time in my life that I'd ever missed Earth with such severity.

True, it was dirty, grimy, and disgusting, but it also carried an air about it that I found achingly familiar. It had a sense of... history, of multi-faceted cultures, all melding together without fully trusting one another. I watched as a small asari kid reached into a distracted salarian's pocket, her illegal activities rewarding her with a credit chit. The victim didn't even notice, so intent was he on the loud batarian who entertained the crowd with his prophetic doomsday blather.

Definitely like Charleston.

 _Ah, the good old days. I'd have almost_ killed _for such great pickings once upon a time._

I was grateful for the familiarity. It reminded me that I'd been on my own for a **very** long time. For years, I'd lived untethered by the restrictions of relationships, unhindered by the hurt and pain that always accompanied such entanglements. Finch may have been a sadistic bastard, but his lessons in having a cast-iron heart had proven themselves over and over again. If you don't care, you can't truly be betrayed or abandoned. If you don't 'form attachments or get emotional,' then you never have to worry about feeling uncomfortable in your own solitude.

At least, that's what I'd spent years convincing myself. I was still working on that last part, a fact that was proven by my joy at seeing Joker again. Everyone else? Well, apparently they'd had no trouble accepting my death without question and moving on.

Even Garrus.

Two years shouldn't change so many things, but it had. Tali was "all grown up and off to destroy people." Wrex was dealing with clan _boskaverna_ , though at least _that_ sounded like something he'd do. Liara possibly working for the Shadow Broker, according to Cerberus Intelligence, which seemed like something she'd _never_ do. Kaidan with sealed files, disappeared off to Goddess knew where.

That last one, I found to my surprise, actually hurt a little bit. He and I had become closer in Garrus's two week absence from the _Normandy._ It wasn't some overly romantic, "I think I love you," crap. I still thoroughly believed myself incapable of even _feeling_ such an emotion, even if it _did_ actually exist. With Alenko, it was more like I'd come to a realization that if I were willing to let go of my past, to act like the things I had endured had never happened... then I could have a future with the biotic. He was willing to overlook any past transgressions I may have committed, (probably because he didn't actually know about most of it) and give us a shot at a life together.

The question had been, did I even want to? Was I willing to forsake myself and how the events of my childhood had shaped me in order to try? Before Garrus, I'd have scoffed at the sentimentality. Afterwards? Well, I'd still been mulling that question over in the back of my head when the _SR1_ had been attacked. What had stunned me most was the realization that I was going to need something, no, **anything** , to replace the gaping hole left in my life by doing the right thing by the turian.

I'd gotten a courtesy copy of his Spectre candidacy acceptance letter in my inbox the day the _Normandy_ went down, forwarded from Anderson. He'd fielded my efforts to streamline the application process, using his new influence and my name _judiciously_ to make my best friend's acceptance into the program happen. Blackmailing the council hadn't hurt either. The message, which had been there the whole time I was gone, gave me a huge dose of relief. I'd found it on the heels of my conversation with the Illusive Man, including discussing my former shipmates. Not that I should have allowed myself to care, but seeing that he'd been given his dreams gave me hope that maybe they all hadn't given up on me.

I was somewhat convinced that's why Cerberus couldn't locate him. I had no doubt he was off on some undercover mission somewhere for the Council. He'd probably completed Spectre training with flying colors, given his loyalty and admiration of the service itself, and immediately sent on assignment the Spirits only knew where. It gave me no small measure of pride to know that even if I'd screwed up my own life, I'd managed to salvage his. That's all that mattered.

Unfortunately, that left me to face the latest trip to Mordor with backup that I knew only slightly better than my dead parents. Without anyone I trusted enough to take my six unsupervised.

 _Jacob I can almost deal with..._ I thought as we entered the cab that would take us to our destination. _He reminds me of Kaidan, the way he looks at me, but I won't make_ that _mistake again._ Fortunately, the man was also someone who saw Cerberus as a means to an end, not as a great, misunderstood organization that could do no wrong. Plus, he'd been straight with me about everything since I woke up, not even trying to gloss over anything. I respected that, the way he treated me as a soldier. His professionalism was a breath of fresh air, as was the fact that he didn't try to bullshit or manipulate me.

Miranda, on the other hand? That bitch and I were going to have it out if she didn't keep her tongue in check. _We get it. You're perfect. Now, can we do the damn mission, please?_

The Collectors weren't going to care if she wore nothing but latex (unless their newest acquisition forms listed 'anti-social streetwalkers' as their latest requirement), or if she were a visually-striking specimen. They would care if she were a threat, which was exactly what I needed her to be if she were going to tag along with me. I briefly wished I could have snagged that merc (what the hell was his name? Kahleed?) to bring along instead of her, but he had a bounty he needed to turn in before he'd be mission ready.

"Shepard, you sure about going after this guy first?" Jacob asked, interrupting my thoughts in a tone that implied he didn't agree with my decision. He'd follow orders, that much I knew, but it was nice to know he could express his own opinion, too.

I laughed. "Oh, yeah. The doc will be fine. His dossier said he was former STG, so I have no doubt about his ability to take care of himself." _He'll hold the line,_ I thought with a snort, rolling my eyes at my own internal joke. "You guys want me to save the galaxy? I need to think about what _I_ need for once in my life, even if it may be like pulling an Edna Pontellier."

Jacob shot me a quizzical look, but Miranda actually scoffed. "You really think you've sacrificed _that_ much for the galaxy? Well, I don't, so, comparing yourself to a good little housewife is woefully inaccurate, Shepard."

I rolled my eyes. _Figures she'd miss the_ Men in Black _reference, but would recognize Chopin. Sanctimonious wench._

Going after this Archangel guy instead of the doctor? It was my way of saying, "I need my sniper team." Hell, his dossier said his operations are "noted for their technical expertise and strategic brilliance."

Honestly, he had me at "small unit tactical skill." Everything else was just gravy.

I was going to need another second-in-command, as I had _no_ confidence in Lawson. She spent too much time questioning my authority for me to trust her to make decisions in my stead. I'd known her for barely three days, and already I knew she would never understand my way of thinking. Someone who was taking down gang leaders, however, could only be a kindred spirit. _I doubt he's doing it_ _in_ quite _the same way I did, but hey. Beggars can't be choosers, right?_

Maybe I'd get lucky and his sniping skills would rival even Vakarian's. If Cerberus was trying to recruit him, he _had_ to be good, and I would need all the "good" I could get to pull this off. No, I'd need "great." Especially if I was back to square one with a whole new group of crazy, suspicious recruits. _A salarian and Spirit's knows how many other species... Time to start Tolerance 101 all over again. It really grows tiresome being the only person in galaxy who_ _ **doesn't**_ _judge based on the look of the chassis rather than the horsepower beneath it._

Briefly, as the cab slowed when we approached the staging area, I remembered my trepidation over being in enemy territory. My discussion with the Illusive Man had been frustrating, due to his distinctly unflappable demeanor. But, as infuriating as that situation had been, it had also been rather informative. I wouldn't hide my intentions to kill him as I had my first victims, though given his reputation for bedding heroes and starlets the thought _had_ crossed my mind. However, I didn't have to play nice, either. I was going to take every chance I could to gather intel on the people who had destroyed my life, and annoy the hell out of the man who'd had the final say in letting it happen. Let's not forget that part. It was my own petty form of revenge for the atrocities and horrors the organization had thrown at me over the years.

" _Okay, I get it. They're not available. Doesn't change the fact that I'm_ _ **not fucking working**_ _for you people. I don't trust you as far as I can biotically throw you, and I'm not a biotic. Get it?"_

 _The man in front of me seemed completely unaffected by the outburst, a fact that irritated me. I depended on people taking me seriously._ "It is now my personal goal to piss you off, Mr. Let's-See-What-The-Thresher-Will-Do," _I thought petulantly._

" _Actually, you_ are _a biotic now, Shepard. Plus, we've added a few other enhancements over the last two years."_

" _Yeah, I noticed the cloaking technology. Hope you don't expect me NOT to try to use it to stab you in the back."_

_His expression remained unchanged as he said, "You need to look at the bigger picture here, Shepard." He took a drag off of his cigarette, a habit that made my own look modern by comparison, and also disgusted me. "The Collectors are attacking human colonies..."_

_I cut him off before he could give me another one of his prepared speeches. "Which is why I'll do the mission. But by the damn Spirits, I wish you people had actually been competent enough to find my old team."_

_He nodded, though at my comment about their failure or at my agreement to work with them, I wasn't sure. He didn't so much as quirk an eyebrow at the turian curse, which surprised me, him being the pro-human advocate that he was. I rolled my eyes at the lack of response. He was going to be one tough nut to crack, but I always got my target in the end._ _**Always.** _

The memory faded as my boots hit the ground, a batarian approaching to debrief us as we entered what I was coming to affectionately call "Mercville."

Life goes on, as does the mission, one way or another. That was the harsh truth any military girl had to face in the end. And infiltrating and smooth-talking my way into enemy territory with the intent of back-stabbing them? Well, I was an old hand at that, too.

* * *

#####

* * *

In every man's existence, there is a single moment which transcends the humdrum of everyday life so forcefully, you find yourself forever altered. It supersedes everything else with the sheer volume of joy it provides. For me, battle-hardened and world-weary warrior that I was, this moment was the instant Teandra Shepard mystically reappeared from the dead. Her very presence helped cleanse the bloodshed and violence the last two years of my life had contained. It served to ground my wandering sanity back into the realities of a life that was suddenly worth living.

Friendship.

Duty.

Honor.

Love.

Yet when faced with her once again, after two years of obsession and revenge-laden actions, that last word turned to ash on my tongue.

Dead or not, how could I ever have entertained the idea that we were more than friends? That our pleasant banter and battle camaraderie were the basis of a bond much more complicated? No matter whether you thought of the political, emotional, or physical obstacles, the reasons I'd left our friendship as such came crashing back down on my head. **Hard.**

Even with her nestled once again in my arms, with the hole in my soul filled once more by the very smell of her, I knew that my promise to confess the whole of my feelings to her was void. I might have won her before I became the Archangel. But now, with so much blood and pain on my hands?

She deserved better than me.


	2. Savior

_Now, I'm not a hero... no_

_But the weight of the world's on my soul_

_These images burn in my eyes_

_They're burning me up inside_

Full Blown Rose - _"_ Somebody Help Me"

 

**Chapter 1 - Savior**

It seemed like only a breath later that she pulled away from our embrace, once again the business-like soldier I remembered so well. There was a reluctance to her retreat, though, as if it was only the reality of the current situation intruding on the reunion that prompted the action. Looking at her as she backed up, however, allowed me to notice the slight tracery of scars across her face. Scars that didn't fully hide cybernetic enhancements.

_What happened, Teandra? Who did this to you?_

"I should have known," she laughed, the sound as high and clear as always. "Only _you_ could piss off three insanely powerful mercenary groups all at the same time. How _did_ you manage that, anyway?"

"It wasn't easy." Jintah and Jackson's broken bodies flashed in front of my eyes, as if in mockery of my forced sarcasm. I shook the image away. "I _really_ had to work at it."

"Commander, I take it you _know_ this guy?" For a moment, I was struck with a strange sense of _deja-vu_ as the man behind her spoke.

' _I was the investigating officer in the case against Saren...' She studies me, flanked by two more humans, one possessively watching her every move..._

I almost laughed at the irony, at the full circle our lives had taken.

 _Trust me, buddy,_ I thought with a smirk. _She is_ not _the wide-eyed innocent she appears to be._ My sardonic contemplation ended full stop, however, as my eyes latched onto the yellow symbol emblazoned on his armor.

Quickly, my eyes flicked to the female, then Shepard, noting they both were similarly adorned. _Cerberus..._ no, not Shepard. She'd never willingly work for them.

Very briefly, I was struck with the idea that it wasn't actually her, but some trick of either my delirium again or that treacherous company. That lasted until I looked more closely at Shepard's emblem. It had been altered. Drawn over the yellow symbol was a horned, green smiley face. I snorted loudly.

"MHI? What, Shepard, no umbrella?" _Monster Hunters International_ was one of many books she had shoved at me along with all the completely outdated movies. I never understood her obsession with the time period, which by her own admission was almost 250 years gone, but it was a sure a part of who she was. As much as her temper or her hair color.

"I ran out of red paint. Had to improvise." She grinned, starting to say something else when the dark-haired woman behind her spoke up.

"Shepard, we don't have time for this."

Teandra rolled her eyes with a large amount of exaggeration, cutting her eyes at the leather-clad woman for a second before saying, "Shut up, Lawson. Grown ups are talking, here." The _lishta_ huffed at the tone, but didn't say a word, something that was probably the best move she could make. The way she was dressed, and even the way she held herself, made it very apparent every aspect of her looks was meant to maneuver and manipulate. Ironically enough, when Teandra did it, I was impressed. When this Lawson woman did it it only served to piss me off. Her arrogant attitude was the most likely reason for the shift in perception.

Reluctantly, as if she hated conceding the brunette was right, Shepard got back down to business. Crossing her arms, my old comrade asked with mock-seriousness, "So, what _are_ you doing here, 'Archangel'?" I shook my head at the address she'd used for me, trying to respond to her joking tone in kind.

"Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice." The flippant tone I was going for must not have been convincing enough, at least not to her. Slowly, eyes narrowing as she studied me, her arms dropped at the same time her smile did. If I'd had any doubts as the her identity, they were dispelled forever by two simple words.

"You okay?"

She reached up to place her soft hand over where my rough one rested on an armored knee. I hung my head to escape her scrutiny.

Only two people in the galaxy knew me well enough to sense my moods so effectively. One was a traitor, and one was the human who'd changed the path of my life.

"Been better, but it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is hard work. Especially on my own." A slight tilt of the head told me she hadn't missed either the sorrow or the bitterness in the last statement. I sighed, for the first time in my life wishing she wasn't so damn perceptive. Then again, that same skill was probably why she changed the subject, realizing it wasn't something I wanted to discuss. Not now. Possibly not ever.

"Well, you know you nailed me good a couple of times." The duel innuendo was her trademark, as was the mischievous tone. Still, even two years couldn't make me miss the fact that when I combined her body language and vocal cues, the result was something that allowed me to overlook my guilt for the moment.

 _That little vixen is flirting with me. That's a new one, even for her._ Flirt in a firefight? Every chance she got. Flirt with _me_ in a firefight? Definitely a first.

Until now. I couldn't resist replying in kind, testing the waters in spite of our audience. On the SR1, I'd never have _dared_ to respond to her over-the-top banter. Her extended absence, filled with countless dreams of things that had never happened, made me bolder than I should have been.

"Concussive rounds only. No harm done. Didn't want the mercs getting suspicious." I smirked, and added, "Besides, it's better than an apology any day, right, Shepard?"

Mirroring my expression, she raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. This wasn't some game of _Warrior_."

"If I wanted to do _more_ than take your shields down, I'd have done it." A second red arch joined the first, smile getting wider, if that were possible. "Besides, you were taking your sweet time." My voice dropped a little lower as I chuckled, "I needed to get you _moving."_

She countered with a laugh all her own, face lighting up at the last word, letting me know she hadn't missed the double entendre. At the glow, and the slight blush that followed on it's heels, something inside me _clicked_.

She was back. She was _**really**_ back.

"So, _Archangel,_ huh?"

"Just a name the locals gave me for all my good deeds. I don't mind it..." _Now._ "But please, it's just Garrus to you."

"Wait a minute," Lawson spoke up from her position near the door. "Garrus Vakarian? You've been off the grid for two damn years. Even _we_ couldn't find you when we started looking for her old team." She seemed angry at the short-coming, and all I could think was that she'd be easy to crack in interrogation. Control-freaks were so simple to outmaneuver. Any time, any day.

"Yeah, since last I checked you had been approved for Spectre training," Shepard chimed in, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

"Accepted as a candidate, not approved to be a Spectre."

"It _would_ have happened. I made sure of that before I left the Citadel."

What she said registered, and it was my turn to be annoyed. She'd pulled strings to get me into the program, rather than let me succeed or fail based on my own merits? _You don't even realize how similar to Castis you are, do you?_

I relinquished my perch, pacing before I said something I'd regret. I'd just gotten her back, and now wasn't the time to fight about this. She'd just argue it into the ground until I conceded out of sheer exhaustion, even as the mercenaries looked on. I could never forget how hardheaded she was, no matter how much time had passed. So, I deflected.

For now.

"I just got so fed up of the politics, the bureaucratic crap. Figured I could do more good on my own..." Okay, so I'd gotten tired of the _verna_ they were spouting about Shepard, not necessarily galactic politics in general. And I _had_ done some good. No amount of self-hatred could change that fact. I just wasn't sure the price had been worth the end product. Would Canderous have found it too high? Nex and Nero? Kheron?

"All I had to do to find criminals here was point and shoot." I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I'd first come here as a mercenary, myself, no better than the men I'd later be taking down. Aria's missions were no child's play, and if I'd taken a bit of a free hand with a few, (a certain slaver came to mind, as did the fact that a certain Matriarch had found my enthusiasm amusing) then it was no excuse for allowing myself to give into numbness. If Liara hadn't shown up, would I even be able to look at Teandra right now?

Luckily she had, and I had remembered myself. Shepard was back, things were looking up, and that was all that mattered. We had more pressing things to address than the how and the why concerning her return. We weren't out of here, yet. I'd be damned if I would sacrifice her life in conjunction with my own, no matter how much I'd been ready to give myself as tribute to my fallen friends.

I had a new mission, now.

No one would ever touch her again, if I had any say. That was something that both the darker man I'd become and the youthful innocent she had known could agree upon.

* * *

#####

* * *

I took a deep breath, trying once again to find the man I'd known before within the one that stood in front of me.

This wasn't him. Not really.

Before, he'd been a relatively happy person. He'd listened to my orders with only occasional objections, viewed me with an almost awed sort of respect due to my Spectre status, undeserved as I'd always felt it was. Even after seeing me at the worst any woman could be seen, tears AND violence, he'd still always been quick to submit to my perspective once we'd discussed it. Our banter had been playful, occasionally heated, but never had it seemed like it was even beginning to bridge into territory where the jokes might be taken seriously.

Apparently, my two-year absence had done more than simply leave him jaded. The way he had looked at me since removing his helmet kept jumping from that of a drowning sailor to something so... animalistically _intense_ that it caused my breath to catch. Goddamn it, I'd left him behind so he could forget me. The fact time had not granted either of us that peace was indicative of something that would possibly destroy our friendship.

I didn't have a lot of people I could call 'friend'. Call me protective, or even selfish, if you must, but a friend was what I needed most right then. Still...

_He would never have dared to take the flirting so far, before._

I felt like I was being viewed as prey, and I found that on some level, I liked it. Damn that competitive streak of mine, inspiring me to challenge his perspective yet again, to flip his views on their head.

Trying to shake off the strange new sensation, one that I was probably imagining anyway, I said, "Getting out of here won't be easy."

His focused, intense gaze left me to look out over the balcony, and I felt my knees shake slightly in relief. Like his eyes had pinned me in place before they moved. I snorted.

_Get a grip, Shepard. You're acting like Baby when she first met Johnny. You've slept damn near naked next to him with less of a reaction._

Thinking about that night was _so_ not helping matters. Still, I was a soldier. Time to get to it. I shoved _whatever_ this emotion was down, compartmentalized it to deal with later.

 _Much_ later.

He had resumed his back and forth pacing, and I could almost see him as the dossier had described him. He had a sense of pride, of authority, about him now. The kind that only came from the burden of being a leader, from the responsibility of holding the fate of your troops in your own hands. It was the way I looked when I glanced in the mirror, no matter what inner turmoil I was experiencing, because you couldn't let your men know how hopeless the situation really was.

If we got out of this alive, if he decided to tag along in spite of my shady new partners, I could never treat him as anything less than my equal again. I could no longer be on a pedestal from where he stood.

Not that I'd ever asked, or wanted, to be up on one to begin with.

"No, it won't," he said in answer to the question that had preceded my revelations, drawing our gazes back to one another. "That bridge has saved my life, funneling all those witless idiots into the scope." His tone was direct, bordering on brusque. No arrogance, just facts, as if a thousand-to-one long shot was a standard part of everyday life. For us, I supposed, it always had been. "But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

"So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out?" Miranda asked sarcastically. His answering glare would have shut up **Sparatus** mid-sentence. When his eyes moved back to me, his gaze turned questioning. He inclined his head, silently asking, _Who's the bitch?_

I smirked, shrugged my right shoulder, and rolled my eyes. _Explain later._

He nodded, and said nothing. _Nice to see our 'code' hasn't changed. Won't even have to get a new handbook, or anything._

He nodded again, but this time in thought rather than at anything in particular. The distant look in his eyes told me he'd retreated into his mind to form a plan of action, and he stayed there for nearly a full minute before he continued his commentary. "It's not all that bad. This place has held them off so far. And with the three of you..."

He nodded again, as if cementing his thoughts. "I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances." His shoulders went back, his voice gaining a surety it had lacked since we'd come through the doorway. This wasn't Papa Vakarian's little 'failure' any more; _this_ was a man in his element. It gave me some idea of what had happened to him while I was gone. Garrus might have been the detective, but I had learned long ago to read people. Made the blows easier to dodge if you knew they were coming, and the best way to do that was to gather facts so you could predict the actions of those around you.

He'd had a team helping him. Something had happened to them, something he blamed himself for. Some things never changed, I guessed, because that was his standby: Blaming himself for every life he _didn't_ save, no matter how many others he spared in the process. Us being there, though, was making him feel like a leader again.

 _He's treating us like his troops_. _Now,_ that's _a new one._

He must have taken my silence as an answer to his musings, as he said, "It's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan." He was starting to sound unsure again, doubting himself.

 _How'd you let yourself get into this position, Garrus?_ I thought, only realizing I'd spoken aloud when he shot me a reproachful glance.

"My feelings got in the way of my better judgement," he snapped. Then, as if he thought better of it, he said quietly, "I'll make you a deal: You get me out of here alive, I'll tell you the whole damn story."

It wasn't until right then that I realized just how tired he looked.

I rushed to reassure him, unhappy with my slip of the tongue. "We fight as a team, we'll hold them off."

He perked up, as if my approval of his idea helped confirm it's soundness. "You're right. Their numbers won't help them in here, anyway." He glanced out over the balcony again, saying absently, "Let's see what they're up to," before shouldering a _very_ familiar looking rifle.

"Looks like they know their infiltration team failed. Take a look." He passed it to me, the stock still warm from his hold. I shouldered it in turn, a half-second glance revealing the only slightly-faded silver of the Ixian symbols on the stock. _Yep, that's my old girl..._

Snugging it in tight, I focused past the reticule, seeing what he was talking about as he confirmed it. "Scouts. Eclipse, I think." The scope was definitely an upgrade from the standard model that had been on it when I'd gifted him the gun. Sighing contentedly, I adjusted the distance from 100m to 150m, caressing the trigger and watching with satisfaction as the head of a Loki mech disintegrated.

"More than scouts. One less now, though." I pulled back, the turian watching me with a strangely amused expression. I shot him an annoyed look, figuring it could only be a response to my enthusiasm at holding the weapon again.

" _What?_ Do you have ANY clue how annoying the new rifle designs are now? I spend all my time collecting ammo. I _hate_ that fucking M-29!"

He laughed at the ferocity of my statement, saying what was probably meant to be a soothing voice, "Actually, what _I_ was thinking was that they'd probably have a hard time figuring out which of us just took that shot. Since when do you wear _blue_ armor, Shepard?"

I looked down, looked at him, and snorted. " _Riza..." Not just blue,_ Vakarian _clan blue._

"Especially C-Sec blue, of all colors," he continued nonchalantly, but his expression was undeniably smug. To look at it, you would think he could guess both where my thoughts had tread _and_ why my brain had subconsciously chosen that shade.

_Right... C-Sec blue... I knew that._

I shook my head. Apparently I'd missed him more than I originally thought.

" _I think you have a summer home you forgot to tell us about,"_ came Ashley's sarcastic voice from the back of my head. " _It's in this place called De-nial."_ Even dead, her sarcasm was my eternal wake-up call.

Which was why I ignored her.

"Hey, it matched my eyes. Figured a girl should accessorize while she had a chance."

He snorted, glancing back out to the bridge as I passed him back the HMSWR, albeit reluctantly. "We better get ready. I'll stay up here. I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You..." He cut his eyes at me in a way that was downright _wicked. "_ You do what you do best." He raised an eyebrow ridge as I nodded my assent. "Just like old times, Shepard."

_Not even close. But I'm more than willing to take these as a replacement._

Then, the shooting started.

* * *

"I love this rifle!"

"Yeah, well, I fucking hate this thing! This three-round burst shit makes me feel like the Incisor is actually a twenty-pound assault rifle. Trade ya?"

"I don't think so, little Spectre. I'm attached to this girl."

"Why they did away with the heat distributor system, only the Goddess knows. If I have to stop for ammo one more time, I'm going to throw this damn M-29 _at_ them, instead." I then proved my threat idle, since a curse was the only response I gave as I popped the heatsink, empty again.

"You have that fireball thing. That gives you reload time, at least."

I rolled my eyes, hitting my cloak in order to grab several thermal clips from around the nearby area before posting up beside Garrus. He started as I rematerialized, missing his latest shot by an angel's breath. I snorted, not sure I'd ever seen him do that before, but didn't bother to razz him about it. I didn't need to, since he was doing enough of that on his own while he lined up his next shot.

Puffing from my exertions, I snap-shot a mech as I said, "Lawson. Taylor. What's the status on the back stairs from your hallway posting?"

"We're holding. No serious action since that invincible krogan went down."

"Jacob, for the record, you need to look up the word 'invincible'. I do not think it means what you think it means." I got nothing but silence by way of response. I had added the proper accent and everything, but he _still_ didn't get it. Garrus, on the other hand, snorted.

 _Okay, it's really bad when the turian got the outdated Earth reference and the human didn't. Then again,_ Joker _would have known it. I've got a lot of work to do with these people._

The troops were slowing, Garrus and I alternating shots to take the brunt of the soldiers coming across the bridge. It really _was_ just like old times, ammo runs notwithstanding. All we needed was a medi-gel call, and things would be...

"Shepard! Miranda went down! I need you!"

 _..._ perfect.

I tried to keep the rather inappropriate glee from my voice as I replied, "I'm on my way." Shaking my head, I said to Garrus, "Keep your head down. I'll be right back."

He nodded, never taking his eyes off the targets funneling down the causeway.

I moved quickly, pulling a medi-gel package out of a slot in my armor as I went. I didn't like leaving him on his own. Call it a hunch, but the residents of Mercville were _pissed,_ and while I might have only a passing faith in the Goddess, I believed in the battlefield deity of Murphy, well, religiously.

You should never call on Sauron while you're trapped in his home territory. I _really_ thought I'd learned that lesson a long time ago, but apparently, I had not. That would forever be changed after the events that followed.

As I knelt next to the still-firing Jacob to help Miranda, who appeared to have a through-and-through bullet wound in her thigh, an earsplitting _whop, whop, whop_ assaulted my ears. Then, a somewhat recognizable voice boomed, " _Archangel!_ You think you can screw with the Blue Suns?"

The gunship.

_FUCK._

I forgot my bleeding charge immediately and headed for the stairs.

" _Riza!_ I'm coming, Garrus!" I rounded the corner as a machine gun fired round after round, hitting the turian with more than a few. Still, he managed to crawl to cover, breathing heavily but unharmed.

Then, he saw me come through the doorway, just as I caught sight of the gunship turning in my direction. His eyes widened as it honed in on me, my whole body already in motion and focused on getting to him. It was too late to stop, to turn back, and he instantly launched himself at me as Tarak yelled over the loudspeaker once again, "This ends now!"

I felt two hands shove me backwards as an indescribable heat fairly penetrated my suit, not enough to do damage but definitely enough to rattle me. That asshole had fired a _rocket_ at me, mistaking me for his intended target.

And Garrus had taken the hit, anyway.

I leapt up, seeing his still-smoking body a short ways away, no movement to be found in that half-second glance. "Garrus!" I screamed for him, hoping for an answer, but there was none. As I posted up against a piece of furniture, I felt the Widow's claws working their way into my brain just before the gunship reappeared.

_No, bitch. You can go fuck yourself. I won't abandon him like I did Toombs and Cortez._

As is turned out, that wasn't what she wanted. The only escape was past that chopper, and we both knew it.

For the first time in my life, the Widow and I were in agreement: Tarak was fucking going down.

Willingly, almost desperately, I succumbed to her black-tinted battle-haze, my movements becoming effortless as I dragged out the arc projector. _Now aren't you glad you listened to me? I told you taking out that batarian was a good idea,_ the bitch pointed out smugly.

It was probably horribly unhealthy, considering she and I were in the same body, but from my vantage point in the backseat of my mind, I briefly entertained the idea of stabbing that harpy in the throat.

The sounds of the continually firing electrical charge drowned out any other comments my little shoulder devil intended to make. With a thundering crash, the ship exploded after four solid hits, while my companions looked on in disbelief. Distantly, I realized I hadn't even see them join the party, but I didn't have time to think about that or to explain my actions. I sprinted to the fallen figure, blood already pooling around the unmoving body.

"Garrus?" I asked, already knowing he was dead. He had to be. That rocket had almost hit him dead on, had exploded only a foot away from where he'd landed in his frenzied attempt to get me out of the line of fire. He couldn't have...

Then I heard a ragged, harsh, gurgling breath expelled from the man in blue armor, closely followed by another.

"Hold on! We're going to get you out of here!"

A taloned hand gripped his rifle almost reflexively, covering the symbols on it completely, blue eye trained on me as if it were my voice alone anchoring him to this world.

Which was exactly why I didn't stop talking until he lost consciousness in the med bay.


	3. Au Courant

_We've learned to run from_

_Anything uncomfortable_

_We've tied our pain below_

_And no one ever has to know_

_That inside we're broken_

Paramore- "Miracle"

 

**Chapter 2 - Au Courant**

My body was _screaming_. It was a level of agony that trumped even the Mexta battles of basic. I had to be dreaming, though, because I could have sworn I heard the very distinctive voice of Dr. Chakwas. That only reiterated the sense of disorientation, of unreality, that remained from the darkness of my dreamworld.

As I opened my eyes, however, the pleasant cocoon of my dream-world was completely shattered by the face of yet another woman I had thought I'd never see again.

"Finally rejoining us in the land of the living? I feel like I've spent more time rebuilding your face over the last ten hours than tending to more trivial matters, such as sleeping, or eating."

Slowly, I tried to turn my head, only to be greeted by a fresh wash of pain up and down the right side of my face.

"As much as I appreciate when my skills are put to good use," she continued as she removed a pair of surgical gloves and tossed them on top of a rather substantial pile of blue-stained ones on the cart next to her, "you should probably avoid trying to stop large projectiles single-handedly in the future."

It wasn't until much later that the fact she'd used so many gloves on... a single patient registered fully.

"Doctor Chakwas?" Was that really my voice? It sounded... off. "Where am I? Is Teandra okay?"

She tilted her head, and looked at me strangely before she rolled away on her stool to retrieve an instrument from the far counter. Confused, I went over what I'd said in my head and silently berated myself for the slip of the tongue. _Keep it professional. That's your rule. First name basis in private only._

I recognized the lingering remnants of sedative in the sluggish movements of my body. It had been a long time since I'd had to be put under for any medical procedure. Actually, the last time had been when I was dealing with the fallout of Shelaya's death...

I shook my head, forcing myself to sit up in spite of Chakwas' protest, and my body reminded me of _why_ this was a very bad idea. I ignored it. Regardless of my own pain, I had to make sure Shepard was all right. That rocket had been fired at _her_ , even if it was intended for 'Archangel'.

The irony that had I not done what I did, Tarak would never have hit his true target wasn't lost on me, even in my heavily medicated state.

I hadn't even taken the time to think, I had just _reacted,_ and shoved her out of the way. She would have done it for me, for _any_ of her troops, so it wasn't a surprising move. Nonetheless, I could now clearly recall just how close we'd _both_ been to being taken out.

Waiting wasn't an option, no matter the extent of my injuries. I had to know...

The doctor seemed to understand my urgency, as she rolled back toward me to place a hand on my shoulder. Smiling gently she said, "The Commander is just fine, Officer Vakarian. Thanks to you, from what I hear." I never understood why everyone, even back on the _Normandy_ , insisted on calling me that. Leaving C-Sec had taken that title from me forever.

"Shepard sustained no damage whatsoever from the explosion, other than to her reputation with her new companions." The older woman went back to cleaning up the area around my bed, her expression changing to one of mild amusement as she added, "Apparently, she went into a killing frenzy after you went down."

Shocked by this bit of information, it took me a moment to find my voice again. "She did _what_?"

"Rather than simply eliminate all further enemies, she... how did Mr. Taylor put it? Ah, yes. 'She utterly annihilated everything in her path.' By herself." Chakwas paused, as if to give me time to take that in before casually pressing on. "Forced her way through the streets damn near at gunpoint to get you out as quickly as possible, all the while trying to keep you lucid. Ms. Lawson isn't aware of how well her voice carries, as she saw fit to tell Mr. Taylor that she thought the Commander talked too much."

_As if I needed another reason to dislike that woman..._

"She only left the med-bay when I pulled rank on her, as it were, so I could work. The woman nearly wore a ditch into the deck plating with all her pacing out there." The doctor gestured toward a large window that looked out onto what looked like a mess hall, something I'd failed to take notice of until she pointed it out.

 _Damn. Teandra, what were you thinking? Were you_ trying _to piss off Aria? Was saving me_ really _that important?_

Fears about the fate of my friend assuaged, I was about to restate the rest of my questions when Chakwas began speaking again.

"As to our location, you're back on the _Normandy_ , Officer Vakarian."

"That's not possible. I might have been a little crazy before she showed back up, but I'm not _that_ far gone." Hope only carried one so far, and mine had reached the end of it's rope a while ago.

"It's not the SR1. Welcome to the SR2, newly delivered to and christened by a freshly rebuilt Commander Shepard."

The intercom crackled to life above us, and a familiar voice chimed in, "This model is new and improved, and it even comes with everybody's _favorite_ pilot!"

That nearly caused me to fall off the cot. "Joker? Is that really you? What, is Wrex going to jump out of the latrine next?"

"God, I wish. But you're not far off. We're all coming home one by one, buddy. Man, wait 'til you see the new girl in action! She responds even better than-"

I cut him off before he had the chance to say anything else. "Joker, much as I'd like to chat, I think I need to report to the Commander." I _really_ didn't want to get into a conversation with Joker about that statement, regardless of whether he was referring to the ship or some new crew-member.

"Right. _Report_. Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Well, don't worry. No Alenko this time, Vakarian."

I put my face in my hands, which resulted in a stabbing sensation shooting up my right mandible and drew my attention back to the damage there. Tentatively, I removed a glove as Chakwas looked on, prodding the damaged tissue delicately. Was it was bad as... _RIZA!_

More pain, this time farther up my cheek plate, closer to my ear.

_Yeah. Definitely bad._

But in spite of the fact that I should be dead, I could still move my mandible normally. Mostly. When I ran my talons over the section that extended upward to meet my cheek plating, things felt... different. The sensations were muted in some places, but slightly enhanced in others, which, truth be told, wasn't helping my pain and disorientation any. Moving further back, I found even more bandages, plus some sort of mesh and what could only be cybernetic wiring.

 _What in the hell_ am _I?_

I had never been a vain man. My looks weren't much of a factor when it came to tracking down criminals or avoiding bullets. Of course, that didn't mean I'd ever been one to turn down the many "advantages" that tended to come to a young turian from a prominent clan, with looks that bordered on handsome. I had a feeling they wouldn't be queuing up for a drink at Afterlife anymore...

Vanity. Good thing it wasn't my weakness. Pride, maybe, but never vanity. I had other skills, and most girls were easy to please.

Well, all except one.

 _What was I thinking, talking to her like that?_ I thought to myself. _Even if she_ did _start it, I should know better than to take her shit seriously._

Reviewing the events of the day in my head, I couldn't help but grin, in spite of the circumstances. _It was fun, wasn't it? And she didn't seem to mind. Just one more competition; one more chance to one-up each other. What the hell am I so worried about?_

Well, overly-presumptuous behavior or not, it was time to face the consequences. I turned, brushing off Chakwas' hands and admonishing looks impatiently. I tentatively placed first one foot, then the other on the floor, nodding in satisfaction as they held in spite of the lingering medication in my system. I looked around.

"My gear?"

The doctor, who's lips were pressed together into a fine line I could only interpret as disapproval, pointed to the far corner where my gear resided, carefully cleaned and laid out.

 _Cleaned? Who would have... right. Shepard. If she cleaned my armor, she must be going_ crazy _somewhere. Better step it up._

I donned the familiar suit and reached for my rifle that had lain next to it, only to realize it was now a mangled mess. It looked _slightly_ better than Canderous' Sokolov, which had taken a round to the heatsink, but only just. _I guess the bleed-off from the missile must have damaged it._ A quick glance told me it was beyond repair, and I sighed. Guess I'd be taking one of those new clip-based weapons after all.

Armor donned, I started to walk out, only to realize I had no idea where the hell I was going.

"Joker, where's Shepard now?"

"I can assist you with that, Officer Vakarian." I started, the blue orb that had popped up to my right catching my attention. "VI?"

"No. I am an artificial intelligence program Cerberus developed to help monitor the ship's programs and assist the crew." The front of the blue orb opened and closed vertically in time with the words it emitted, in what I assumed was an attempt by the designers at making it more relateable.

The effect accomplished exactly the opposite. _Still less startling than Avina, I suppose._

"And she's a giant pain in my ass, Vakarian. You can help me figure out how to shut her down later." Even after two years, it was easy to tell what Joker was feeling when he spoke, even if he didn't state it plainly. "Shep's in the CIC, same place your sparring area used to be. No stairs, though, so you'll have to take the elevator. I'm still trying to figure out how to fix the speed on that damn thing for you guys."

"Officer Moreau, Cerberus has already programmed the internal transportation elevators to achieve maximum efficiency while staying within safety regulation parameters. Tampering with these numbers-"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up, EDI."

I couldn't help but smile as I moved forward, garnering only a few looks from the various humans moving about the mess hall as I threw a wave at Chakwas. No thanks would be necessary where she was concerned, that I knew. We'd always had an unspoken agreement there: I keep Shepard from needing the Med-bay, and she'd consider any injury I took in stride.

I'd say, all told, we'd both made good on that.

* * *

#####

* * *

"Commander," the damn biotic even managed to _sound_ sympathetic. "We've done what we could for Garrus, but he took a bad hit."

_Fucking understatement of the millenia. He took a goddamn rocket to the face._

"The doc's corrected with surgical procedures and some cybernetics."

_The Cerberus standby..._

"He should have full functionality, but..."

 _But what?_ He'd be a damn vegetable? He'd hate himself for losing his looks? He'd be permanently damaged in a way that went way below the skin? Why couldn't anyone just get to the damn point around here!

A _whoosh-_ ing sound reached to my ears, and I resisted turning toward the door. _Probably just Miranda, coming to ask for a mission report..._

"Shepard."

My head snapped up in disbelief. No... it was too much to expect. Not with my track record.

I glanced over to the dark-skinned man and his reaction told me I wasn't imagining things. "Tough son of a bitch," Jacob muttered. I saw no reason to enlighten him to turian enhanced hearing as he continued under his breath, "Didn't think he'd be up yet." My attention then returned to the door and..

He looked battered and beautiful at the same time. If I thought he could have handled it, I'd have tackle-hugged him, but I was scared of jarring him. Even if he was up and about, the damage... well, full functionality was putting it tactfully. The entire right side of his face was a barely-held-together mess. And that was _after_ Chakwas had patched him up. _Sweet Goddess, part of his fucking_ chin _is missing!_

With me, Cerberus had been very careful to reconstruct me back to factory spec. With Garrus... I guess the doc hadn't been given the time or the resources. After all, she'd been too busy trying to save his _life_ , and for that, I figured I should be thankful. Cerberus could have written him off as a lost cause, a waste of valuable credits, then dumped his body on the nearest spaceport, and moved on. Such a move would have ended our unbalanced working relationship, full-stop, but lucky for us, we wouldn't have to explore that issue.

 _Lucky for them, you mean,_ came her seductive voice from that back of my mind. _Though showing them who_ really _calls the shots on this mission would have been lots of fun..._

I managed not to snarl aloud as I mentally fought to shove Red back in her box. _Which is something you should learn, too. This is NOT your show, bitch._ As I locked her away, all I could think was even the damn Cheshire Cat had a smile less wicked that she did.

As if sensing my trepidation, Garrus did what he'd always done, come firefights or personal trauma: He cracked a joke, and brought me out of my trance.

"Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?"

A small laugh escaped me, releasing the tension and worry I'd been holding. Leave it to that _ben'jee_ to throw my own words right back at me. _Turn about's a bitch,_ I thought, as I gave him a taste of his own medicine.

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice."

He chuckled, probably remembering my own reaction to similar words. Then, he grimaced. "Don't make me laugh, damn it," he groaned slightly, "my face is barely holding together as it is."

"Hey, you started it. At least you got a better doctor than I did last time. Though, he _was_ kinda cute..." He tried to look affronted, but I knew he was full of it.

"Well, some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are _krogan..._ "

"Thought you didn't do the interspecies thing, Garrus? Changing your mind?"

"More like everyone was always ignoring you, and hitting on me. Time for you to get a fair shot at it. Just remember to put on your 'chicks-dig-me' t-shirt if we ever go to Illium, and you'll be set."

 _Wiseass._ I smiled, unable to do anything but shake my head at the barb. This was more like the man I'd always known, not the serious warrior I'd found in that base. I'd missed this version of him. His way of taking the worst possible scenario and making it, well, _right_ made me less world-weary.

Movement from Jacob caught my eye. A salute, before exiting the room without a word. But not before I saw the look of disgust, barely concealed, on his face. I narrowed my eyes at his retreating back.

 _We are going to have a talk soon, Taylor. I won't have some ex-Alliance wannabe telling me who I get to_ talk _to. Hell, if I decide to_ screw _every person on this ship like I'm some lost Star Fleet captain, that's_ my _business._

As the door closed behind the Cerberus operative, however, I realized the fallacy in that statement. On Omega, I had assumed my attraction to my old friend was excitement at a friendly face, and nothing more. As the room became silent following the biotic's departure, I was made aware of an almost _magnetic_ attraction to the turian. Not being bodily drawn to him, so to speak, but more like an electric sensation. I was pretty sure, if I closed my eyes and spun around, I would have been able pinpoint exactly where he was in the room. I was briefly struck by the crazy idea to try it, just to test the theory, but then he spoke again, and the reason for the static became apparent.

His voice had lost that playful edge again, replaced by one of concern. "Frankly, I'm more worried about you. _Cerberus_ , Shepard? After all those sick experiments..." He didn't have to say it. _Akuze._ The event that had taken an everyday soldier, one who wanted nothing more than a _normal_ life, and turned her into a so-called hero. Poster child for military training: _She survived against all odds. So can you. Join today!_

Fuck that. John Grissom was a hero, going into the unknown with no guarantee of return. Anderson was a hero, never leaving a fallen comrade behind, even on the batarian homeworld. General Williams, in spite of all the criticism, had been a goddamn hero to recognize when he'd been overwhelmed and that surrender was the only way to avoid colossal casualties. Me? I was just a girl with a gun and a stubborn streak that wouldn't die. I'd gotten lucky with the thresher. But nowadays?

Now, I made my own luck.

"That's why I'm glad you're here, Garrus. If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I can trust at my side." _Wait... why did I say it like that? Why not 'at my back'?_

' _Ever heard of a Freudian slip, Shepard?'_ I rolled my eyes, brushing off both my own comment and Ashley's, until I caught sight of the raised eye ridge on Garrus' face.

Great. He hadn't missed it, either. _I thought you were going to let him go, Teandra? If you are,_ stop _playing games with his head._

That grin was back, though, the wicked one, as he responded, "You realize this plan has me walking into hell, too. Hah," he gave a small chuckle. Stepping to the side, he cocked one hip out as he laughed, " _Just_ like old times."

Then, the moment was gone, just like that. He grew serious as he said, "I'm fit for duty whenever you need me, Shepard. I'll settle in and see what I can do at the forward batteries."

As he exited, a loud sigh of relief escaped me, and I reveled in the momentary solitude.

 _This... whatever the hell it is, could be a problem._ The whole point of getting him _into_ the Spectre service to start with had been to give him his dreams while removing him from mine. It had been bad enough when we'd been dealing with the small physical indicators that there was a spark between us. We'd been adults about it. We'd handled it without messing with the friendship that meant so much to both of us. We'd parted ways knowing that it was the only way to save it without it devolving into something that meant so much less.

Love was a joke with a punch line I just didn't get. It wasn't that I didn't believe the emotion existed; I was simply too deeply conditioned to the contrary to ever actually experience it myself. Too many of the cornerstones of my life were based upon the cold calculation that letting yourself admit you cared for someone meant someone would use that knowledge against you. Or worse yet, they would disappear. They'd die, or move on, or somehow betray you. The how didn't matter; the fact that they left you, one way or another, did. I knew most people didn't think the same way I did. Hell, that's why I'd sent Garrus out on his own to start with. He, in defiance of the badass persona he openly displayed, was a romantic through and through. Much as he always tried to hide it.

And vigilante or no, he always expected the best out of people when he first met them, instead of inherently distrusting them. I spent every waking moment waiting on the blow to strike, no matter who I was with. I'd grown very good at disguising that wariness over the years, but that didn't change the fact that it was still there. The masquerade was part of the dance of survival, one of many skills that had allowed me to carry on while working for Finch.

Despite what I knew to be the core of who he was, Garrus seemed to be different now. Older. More worn down by the life he had chosen to lead since our parting of ways. Remembering Omega, I figured the city had punctured his "people are good" bubble. Yet, to have found him in such a precarious situation, on the verge of being ripped limb from limb by the angry guys with guns... that wasn't him. Even when the odds had been stacked against us, he had never given up. Never let emotion get in the way of...

My eyes widened as my mind brought up the logical conclusion to that line of thought.

 _Motherfucker..._ He'd been suicidal! There was no other explanation that fit. _I can't believe I didn't realize it before._ _I should have seen it as soon as we found him..._

Hurriedly, I turned my boots to the door, and made for the elevator with intense purpose. _Time to remind him there are things worth living for._

* * *

#####

* * *

The front guns were much more isolated and comfortable than the cargo bay on the original _Normandy_ had been. I liked that, even if there was a bulbous blue eye always watching me. I didn't have a problem with the ship having an A.I. I'd already hacked into a terminal and seen for myself the kind of protocols its creators had put in place. I just had a problem with her constantly inserting her opinions into every situation.

"Officer Vakarian," it was currently informing me, "it is against Cerberus Safety Regulations for living quarters to occupy the same space as work stations."

"Bite me, NnB." I found myself saying, only belatedly noting the use of the human term. I finished setting up the cot in the corner, satisfied by the small space it occupied.

"I am not familiar with the terminology. Will you clarify?"

" _Nuts and Bolts_. As in, what I'll break you into if you give me any more crap."

There was a moment's hesitation, followed by, "Understood, Officer Vakarian." Then the blue orb disappeared, and I was alone. So to speak.

 _I thought the_ _ **geth**_ _were bad._ _At least I was allowed to_ shoot _them,_ I thought, my mandibles clicking incrementally in mild irritation. Still, the ship itself was impressive, vastly improved from the original plans. There were more decks, more space, and more places to get away from the bustle. Plus, we had a _cook_. Knowing the ever-horrendous synthesizer had not made a reappearance made me happier than I would ever admit to _anyone_ , lest I tarnish my tough-guy reputation. I hadn't told anyone, not even Teandra, that I'd rather cook my own meals than eat some disgusting slop prepared by others. If Gardner couldn't pull it off, I was more than willing to bet Shepard would give me run of the kitchen.

The door opening behind me interrupted my thoughts. I turned to face the footsteps that entered, catching sight of Shepard. She moved forward with a purpose as the door closed behind her, covering the small space in a matter of steps. I grinned. I'd expected her to come by at some point before we suited up for the next mission, just not _so_ soon.

"Shepard, need me for some..." I never finished that statement. The two hurried steps forward were the only warning I got before she drew back and hit me with a right hook, sending me reeling.

"By the damn Spirits, Teandra!" I said, or attempted to say as my vision swam. What actually came out was a garbled string of turian curses and words the translator was having to struggle to keep up with.

"Thermopylae? _Really,_ Garrus?" Even with my mind (and my head) still reeling from the punch, I could tell she was holding back nothing, except perhaps another strike. She was stock still, her chest heaving from the effort of keeping her fists in check, as she continued to berate me. "What if I'd been _five minutes later?_ If I'd gone after that damn salarian first, _you'd be dead_!"

"Nice to see you too, Shepard. And thanks for hitting my uninjured side. Very considerate." I rubbed absently at my cheek plating, marveling at her having punched me bare-fisted. Her cybernetic enhancements _hurt_.

She blushed slightly, as if only just realizing what she'd done after walking through the door, but refused to back off. "Why'd you do it, Garrus?"

"It's been two years, Shepard. You'll have to be a bit more specific." I was dodging, but I hoped it wouldn't be terribly noticeable. When she settled back on her heels, placed her hands on her hips and set her jaw, I knew she was on to me.

Being deliberately obtuse to avoid an argument should be a valid tactic. It really should.

"Don't try to make nice with me, asshole. Why would you try to kill yourself? Why would you put yourself in a situation with no way out and very little tactical advantage? That's not the Garrus Vakarian _I_ know."

"No tactical advantage?" I sputtered, genuinely indignant. "A narrow lane of attack with a high-ground vantage point, being used to funnel enemy troops? It's a perfectly viable..."

"Stop changing the damn subject. You always do that when I'm mad at you."

"And most of the time it works."

She glared at me, but I held my ground. "Truth hurts, doesn't it?" Did she really think she was the only one capable of manipulating those around her? _So sorry to disappoint you, little Spectre..._

"It would hurt less if you were telling me all of it. So, out with it." Hip still cocked back, she crossed her arms, and said, "Why did you set yourself up to die in a blaze of glory instead of fighting, or hell _sneaking_ , your way out? Suicide by merc is beneath you."

I huffed angrily, "Didn't you see the body bags that littered the floor of my base? I owed my men _something_ for their sacrifice. They _died_ because of _my_ shortcomings as a leader. Because _I_ was too arrogant to look at all the possibilities that could occur."

"So _now_ it's okay for a leader to be suicidal over his orders leading to disaster? Virmire was only a few months ago for me, remember?" She angrily tucked her hair behind her ears before recrossing her arms, eyes never leaving me.

"You lost _one_ soldier, Shepard. I lost my _whole damn group_. All because I listened to one man, a man who betrayed me."

In a blink, she was in my face, all but screaming at me as she pointed a finger at my chest. "Fuck you, Vakarian! Don't talk to me about betrayal," she spat. "I fucking _died_ , and who the **hell** bothered to keep up the fight? The Reapers are still out there, somewhere, and not a _single damn person_ found it necessary to take my place!"

Her words were like cold water on my fiery anger, untrue as they were. I _had_ tried, but...

"We were all blacklisted, Shepard. Everyone except Alenko, and I'm not so sure he didn't just go along so we'd have _some_ say in galactic politics." I didn't even want to admit _that_ much, to be honest, but I tended toward giving credit where it was due, not matter what it cost me personally.

I looked down at her, noting she hadn't backed away. Whereas moments earlier she'd been all fire and rage, now she was silent, watching me from mere inches away. I took this as acquiescence, so I continued.

"Yeah, I tried," I said bitterly. "Due to all the rebuilding, and then the panic over your death, it was chaos." I paused, sighing heavily at a particularly shameful memory, where I had torn a Galactic News Network terminal out of a wall near my apartment block after the first news reports concerning Shepard's supposed mental state had trickled in. While it hadn't been said outright, the implication that she'd never been "quite right" again after Akuze was there, and it still made me livid even though years had literally passed since then. "They said you'd been under too much stress, that the Reapers were a fucking myth. We all did what we could, spread to the corners of the galaxy to find help. For my part, Omega just fit. I needed to find some way to emulate you... it was the closest I could get, a place that needed someone to believe in."

The anger drained from her as I spoke, replaced by an almost perceptible weight as she sighed heavily in turn. There it was again. The fate of the galaxy resting on her very tired shoulders, like a mantle made of lead. She moved to the railing, propping upon one elbow as she said, "Tell me about them, Garrus. Tell me about the ones you lost."

I was somewhat taken aback by the rapid change in subject, and even more so by the fact that she was staring at me, unblinking, from her perch. It was as if she were worried I would disappear if she didn't focus her full attention on me. _What would it be like, to wake up one morning and find everything you knew was gone? That everyone moved on without you? How bad would it be if you thought you were_ still _dreaming..._

That I understood, though. Completely. I wasn't entirely convinced I wasn't actually dead, myself. "There were twelve of us," I began slowly, smiling slightly. Remembering them helped remind me I wasn't hallucinating. Had I been, they wouldn't be dead, but here with me, most likely giving me shit for having finally cracked. "Standard small-unit make-up. Biotics, heavy weapons... had a pair of krogan brothers for that, actually. My hacker, Chaven, was a batarian. Not too friendly, but he was even better than Tali.

"There was Boomer, who was absolutely fucking _insane_ , but really reliable when it came to blowing things up. Probably because he really enjoyed it. And Canderous, you'd have loved him. He was almost as good as Wrex with a shotgun. And of course there was..." _Jackson..._

 _Oh,_ _**fuck** _ _._

I resisted glancing at her, for fear of her reading my thoughts. Totally irrational, I know, but considering she'd managed to come back from the _dead_ , I wouldn't put such a magic trick past her. _Should I tell her?_

No. Not now. It was too soon after everything that had happened. She was close to breaking again, not that anyone other than I would ever have known. She didn't allow herself that luxury, the weakness of emotional surrender, and I could say that I doubted anyone else had seen, or would ever see, her cry. That night would forever be burned into my memory, the evening I'd defied the pattern of her past associates and followed her, risking our _very_ tentative friendship by entering her room without permission. When she had asked me to leave, and I'd refused, the blood on her self-inflicted wounds evidence of her need for someone to be there... well, the result had left me with a completely disarmed and sobbing warrior cradled in my arms.

In reflection now, it was so out of character as to appear ludicrous, to seem like an _very_ extreme reaction. Teandra was many things, but there were also many things she was not; physically weak, overly emotional, or the type to ask for sympathy being near the top of the list. So, why had she allowed me to see her that night? Why was I allowed to be the one to see her at her lowest?

I'd never asked, and she'd never brought it up again, and after she'd died, I had reluctantly decided it was one of those mysteries of the universe that would forever remain unsolved.

Now that she was back, however, perhaps I could get the answer I needed. Not right now, though. She was close to that cliff again. Her beaten posture made that evident. _Even Lorcana had her breaking point,_ I thought, recalling many a night my mother spent relaying tales of turians past. Remembering my own relief at finally releasing the grief I had harbored in Sidonis' presence...

I decided I'd tell her the rest of the story later. _Definitely_ later.

Decision made, I cleared my throat so I could continue. "I proved I got things done... just like you did with Saren. People joined up when they realized we had a shot at changing things. _I_ gave them hope." I threw my arms out, for a moment reveling in the slight smile that graced her lips at my enthusiasm, as well as taking a small amount of pride in the recollection of what I'd accomplished. I'd been too blind to see it then, too busy pining for the woman in front of me like a spoiled child to appreciate what I had.

Yet for a moment, a single frozen moment, I considered their loss to be almost worth it to get back the one person who'd meant so much to me. Then, as if I was coming out of darkened tunnel, I realized with growing horror just what such a thought meant about who I'd become, and it shamed me like nothing else beforehand had managed to.

I bowed my head, both in mourning for them, and myself as I said, "And now they're dead. Shows what I know."

"What did you guys do, exactly? It didn't sound like you were available for hire." She sounded like she were changing the subject again, as if the pain of my loss were adding to her own. For all I knew, maybe it was.

"You saw Omega. It was full of thugs kicking the helpless." My ire was rising again, but not at her. This time it was at the reminder of the scum that had remained even after my team was done, their time expired. "We weren't mercenaries. At least, no one was paying us." Standing there, with her scrutinizing me from such a short distance became intolerable. I began pacing the small room just to get away, almost circling her in my anger. "We made money by taking down slavers, pirates, or those damn gangs that were always going too far."

"Really? So glad to know you think all gangs are the same. Especially since it sounds like you were _just another gang._ " Her face had hardened slightly, and at first, I couldn't understand why. Why would she...

Then, it hit me. _She was_ part _of a one._ Why did I always overlook that in my speeches on morality? I was too far buried to back out now, though.

"So you're saying you wouldn't have jumped at the chance to have someone take down Finch?"

"At the time? **No.** I _killed_ the ones who tried." Her voice sounded strange to me, the tone somewhere between sorrowful and proud; pensive and declarative, all at once, though I had no idea how that was possible. "Just because I regretted my actions later down the road doesn't mean I didn't know what I was doing. I convinced myself I wasn't doing it for Him; I was doing it because that meant there was one less scumbag in the universe." She'd shifted again while my back was turned, her back now against the railing, hands gripping the pipe on either side of her hips. I couldn't help but notice the way her knuckles whitened as she lifted her head. She looked at me from beneath a curtain of crimson, her gaze level as she continued.

"In the end, though? I had to accept that I willingly murdered men and women because they challenged the authority of my trainer. If _you_ don't accept that, then our whole friendship is based on a lie, Garrus."

I sighed in exasperation. "I've _already_ accepted it. A long damn time ago, in fact." It was my turn to run a taloned hand over my fringe wearily, moving back to the original topic, "We _weren't_ just another gang. We were more like the Irregulars than the Reds, if you really need a comparison. Every member of my team had lost something to Omega's street-war. We weren't out to get rich; we were out to make those bastards think twice before murdering someone in those streets."

I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think she was continually _trying_ to pick a fight. _I wanted to break through that tactful exterior, to disarm that verbal politician... guess I got my wish._

Well, if she wanted to argue, then I was sure as hell going to stop using my pawns and pull out my queen. "Besides, I think you need to take a second to consider your own judgement calls... _pulling strings_ to get me into the Spectre program? Are you _kidding_ me, Shepard?"

She seemed completely unconcerned about her actions, in spite of my resurging anger. Originally, I had just wanted to vent my frustration, but her nonchalance pissed me off all over again.

"You wanted off the ship." _Like either of us had really considered any other option._ "I wasn't going to let you fail. Not with everything you'd sacrificed."

"Didn't you ever think I'd make it on my own merits?" I said, not backing down.

"Of course I did." Her tone was completely sincere, as if this were the craziest thing I'd ever come up with. "I just wanted to speed up the timeline. I've been told it takes years to get through the approval process, especially for turian candidates, since you guys make up the majority of the service. And you're ignoring the other part of the equation: What if Sparatus or someone else I pissed off tried to bar your admittance because of me?"

"Well, thanks for that, but I told them quite politely to take their approval and shove it. They were already pissing on your name, and I wasn't going to support an organization that so easily turned on their own." I don't know what reaction I was expecting to that declaration. Anger at me throwing away her gift, perhaps? That's what my father would have done...

In spite of the similarities, though, she was _not_  Castis. Her reaction was a full, happy smile accompanied by a slight blush. Why the idea of me defending her memory made her so happy was anyone's guess, but her smile had _always_ lightened my mood. The tension eased from the room completely, disarmed by the reminder that I'd given up everything to follow her, even in death.

The one choice in recent memory that I never regretted making.

"Never been good at making friends with authority, have you? First the Council, then the gangs..." She trailed off, still smiling, and still blushing. _Someone who makes so many jokes that contain dual innuendos should not blush so easily... then again, I've never seen her blush around anyone else._ I stopped that train of thought full bore, something I was starting to think of as a new skill in her presence, and found a new one quickly.

"I got three separate merc bands to work together to take me down. Even my manager at C-Sec would have been impressed." Yeah, Pallin would have _loved_ that.

"How'd they get you in the end, Garrus? You're too damn smart for any normal gambit." There was pride in her voice as she said it, like my actions _had_ impressed her in spite of all the criticisms she'd thrown my way. _She was arguing the merits of your tactics,_ ben'jee _, not telling you that you were a failure. You have got to stop comparing her to your father._

"It was my own damn fault. One of my people betrayed me." I paced out towards the hallway, breaking out eye contact as I continued speaking. "A turian named Sidonis." I couldn't help but almost spit the name, his betrayal something I never could have foreseen in a million years. Shepard would have, though. She didn't trust _anyone_. I should have adopted that part of her personality in her absence, too. Then I'd never have been caught off guard by my rite-brother. Even if he'd loved Mishta once upon a time, even if his growing feelings for Jintah had made his actions even more horrendous, I should have known better than to trust him.

I wouldn't make that same mistake again.

"He drew me away just before the mercs attacked my squad, asking for my help on a job, then disappeared. Everyone except me is dead because of him. And because I didn't see it coming." I started pacing again, lost in my own thoughts, in the memories of my dead. Is _this_ what Teandra went through after Virmire? _I can't sleep,_ she had said, but that was the least of my troubles. I felt like I could barely _function._

She considered my words as I was thinking, weighing the possibilities before saying, "Sure they didn't just take him out first? Even if he did betray you, mercs aren't the most honorable lot."

"No. I followed his trail to a transport ship, last-minute transaction for an exorbitant amount of credits for a single turian passenger in a hurry. His trail vanishes after he leaves Omega, but I'll keep hunting. I lost my whole team except for Sidonis. One day I'll find him... and correct that." My blood still boiled, and not for the first time I wished for my sister to still be alive. I was pretty sure she would have approved of my plans for her husband. She'd have kicked his ass for the betrayal, maybe even shot him herself for the lies.

Then again, if he'd never lost his wife, things would probably have been different.

"Revenge is a slippery road, Garrus. You know that."

She did not want to play this game with me. She really didn't. "Do I need to say His name, Shepard?" The man who would always have a capitalized moniker in her head, in spite of his demise at her hands. "I know _you're_ not going to school me on personal vendettas. Again. How did you put it? ' _This isn't some case... this is my life.'"_

"Did I say I would stop you?" She seemed slightly affronted at my vehemence, "I just said you need to make sure it's what _you_ want. That you believe it will help assuage the guilt." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, as if talking to herself. "It sure as hell didn't for me."

I did _not_ want to fight anymore. I just didn't. I was glad we could 'discuss' things without it becoming friendship-altering like last time, but _damn_ I was tired of it all. "I still have to find him. You've got a while before you need to lecture me, Teandra."

She smiled again, strained but sincere, and I got the impression her thoughts lay exactly where mine did.

"I'll hold you to that." She sighed. "I've got to get back to work, Garrus, much as I'd like to keep 'chatting.'" I snorted. "Feel free to make yourself at home, and let me know if the crew gives you _any_ trouble. My new room's pretty kick-ass, too. I have a _fish tank_ of all things. You oughta come check it out soon."

With that, she started to walk away, but I called after her, "Hey, little Spectre." She turned back, eyes expectant.

"Next time you want to convince me not to give up on life, how about we put in a sparring ring first?"

She laughed as she continued to walk away, calling, "Consider it done," as she did so.

It was only then I realized she'd just invited me up to her quarters.

Not in the way my brain latched onto, but _riza_ she was going to drive me crazy before this little adventure was over. However, if this was insanity, I'd take it. It was making me _feel_ things again, more-so than I had been since I'd found out she was dead.

It gave me life again. A life that included _her_ in it. All the pain I'd endured was worth it, in the end, for that irreplaceable gift.


	4. Nothing's Ever Easy

_Though these wounds have seen no wars_

_Except for the scars I have ignored_

_And this endless crutch, well it's never enough_

_It's been the worst day since yesterday_

Flogging Molly - "Worst Day Since Yesterday"

 

**Chapter 3 - Nothing's Ever Easy**

"You're letting them in, but not me? You son of a bitch."

I might have felt more sympathy for the woman if it weren't for the fact that her _sole_ reason for wanting to enter the plague zone was to retrieve material things. _Everyone around me is going to die from the germs I brought out, but I've got my five credit bottle of brandy, so who gives a shit?_

Far be it from me to let such an opportunity for sarcasm to go to waste. I was just opening my mouth to say something to that effect, but the guard beat me to it. "You don't have a grenade launcher lady. Get lost."

 _Damn it._ Not to be one-upped in the smartass department, I had to add my own quip in Shep's direction, "A quarantine zone for a plague that kills turians. Why don't we ever go anywhere nice?"

"Are you kidding me? The Palazar Hotel wasn't good enough for you?"

"Do you have _any_ clue how many official parties I got dragged to by Dad? Palazar wasn't even _close_ to nice by comparison. We might seem like warrior drones, but there are nuances to my people you would never even guess at."

"You mean like letting me think you were the only smart ass turian before you left? Well, thanks to Omega, I'm learning all kind of new things about your species." Shepard's comment was accompanied by a look I'd spent the last two years missing. Her trademark smirk, with it's hints of annoyance and mischief, had never failed in making me smile. This time, however, her brow was also pinched in worry, and her trigger finger twitched. I didn't even have to ask to know what she was thinking.

Great. I'd _just_ made it back on to her fucking team, and now she was weighing the pros and cons of leaving me behind. The fact that she was only doing it out of concern for my welfare didn't help much at all.

Fuck that. I told her a long time ago I despised being "babied" and that really hadn't changed.

 _Of all the people on her list to pick up, she had to choose Dr. Solus,_ was my next thought, once again cursing the spirits of comedic coincidence who seemed to keep following me around for their own twisted amusement.

I hadn't seen him since that fateful day nearly seven months before, when he'd saved Sidonis' life. I'd been _hearing_ a lot about him, though. He'd been making quite a stir in the last year, mostly by pissing off the Blue Suns.

I'd be lying if I said that little bit of information didn't make me grin just a bit.

The current plague that had been released into my old haunts had been a wonderful diversion as far as that organization was concerned. If a large portion of their membership hadn't been affected by the disease, I would have put them at the top of the list of likely culprits. As it was, though, they had simply taken full advantage of the situation to increase their foothold in the district. It was an attempt to offset the losses they'd taken at the hands of 'Archangel'.

In the meantime, I knew she'd need a damn good reason to leave me behind. It had always been that way, ever since Virmire, and I doubted her experiences would have changed that. It had hung between us, unspoken, since that fateful mission: She believed leaving me behind had cost her Ashley. I knew that was ludicrous, because the situation had been impossible, no matter which way you looked at it. Unfortunately, there was no changing her mind on the matter. While being her good luck charm made me uneasy, it was a small price to pay to give her at least a little peace of mind.

And it wasn't like I'd ever had a problem covering her six. Either on the field, or off it. It took scarcely a moment for me to realize how that sounded, even in my own head. _Spirits, I'm getting as bad as Teandra with the dual innuendos._

"It's your call, Shepard. If you need me, I'm not going to let a little cough hold me back." It was _always_ her call, and I knew better than to question her, but I wanted it made _damn_ clear that would be the only reason I would stay behind. Weakened or not, the Suns were nothing to toy with. And I knew the slums almost as well as my own clan markings.

She rolled her eyes, shooting me a look that plainly stated, _Can't you take_ _ **anything**_ _seriously?_ I simply shrugged, smiling. Our other companion, a mercenary that was practically Wrex in human form, just silently waited on her decision.

Her thought process was clearly visible, if only to me, and it was less than a minute later when she spoke. "Alright, we're all going in." I sighed in relief, only then realizing I was _happy_ about following her into a disease-ridden slum.

Now _that's_ loyalty for you.

"I'll radio ahead," the guard stated. "Let them know you're authorized. Good luck."

We moved through the doorway, weapons already drawn before our boots had truly hit ground. We passed the guards, not even pausing to give them greeting as one said simply, "Hold your fire, they're permitted to pass."

Almost immediately, a thick, smoky odor assaulted my nostrils. It was all too familiar. "At some point in my life, I've gotten used to the smell of burning bodies... that's probably a bad sign," I commented dryly.

"Standard plague containment at it's best. Just throw the bodies in a pile and burn them in the streets." The mercenary, Zaeed, agreed aloud. Rolling her eyes yet again, Shepard ignored us both, increasing her pace as she spotted a figure up ahead.

It was a batarian, and I would recognize the tone she took with him anywhere. It was the voice of her inner diplomat, the one who would get the whole world to hold hands and work together in harmony. A laughable concept, except the woman _somehow_ managed to make it work, no matter if she were talking to the Council or some street kid. Bored by the familiar routine of 'placate and threaten', I chose instead to observe our surroundings. It was only then I realized exactly where we were standing. A small, unexplained warmth worked its way up my spine. I brushed it off, lost in thought.

 _It was here, right on this spot, wasn't it? The night I saved that woman from her rapist? The night I realized how to honor Shepard's memory by imitating her. Now_ she's _the one with someone's back against the wall._

For all the joking, I was _really_ beginning to wonder if Irony and Coincidence were my own personal Spirits.

"We'll send someone back to help you, if we can." Shepard's voice held a conclusive note as she motioned for us to follow, her business with the batarian finished.

"Shepard, you didn't need to ask directions, trust me. I know the way." She shot me a questioning look, and I started to respond, only to feel another wave of heat blow across my face. I started.

"Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" A tickle in the back of my throat caused me to cough slightly, which in turn increased the burning sensation threefold. I shook my head in consternation, not believing the obvious.

 **No.** We just _hit_ the quarantine threshold five minutes ago. No illness had that quick an incubation period.

Then again, no illness had ever been able to cross the species line like this before, either.

Another cough, a little stronger and more insistent, interrupted my internal argument. I couldn't help but state the obvious. "Oh, that's not good."

The redhead in front of me stopped, whirling around to look me full in the face. She stared intently for a moment, searching, and I managed to meet her scrutiny without flinching. Whatever she saw there must not have assuaged her fears, however, because she turned around and moved forward even more quickly than before.

I am a logical man. It's a skill I inherited from my father, one that took me far in both my military and civilian careers. But logic had _nothing_ to do with that afternoon. I remember very little about that journey through the old stomping grounds, memories of the past blending with the present as the fever gripped me with an intensity that seemed to be on an accelerated timeline. Far off, in the back of my mind, it occurred to me that my immune system probably wasn't fully recovered from my last round of injuries. There's a period of adjustment that follows the installation of cybernetics. Anti-rejections meds only do so much to help them integrate into one's body as a part of the functioning whole. I was too busy fighting my demons to give it much thought.

 _There,_ I thought as we rounded one corner of many on the lower levels, _there's where I met Nex and Nero for the first time. They were sent to kill me, and I talked them into changing sides. Guess my little Spectre isn't the only one who's persuasive._

As I spiraled farther and farther into the past, Teandra moved forward through our obstacles with a purpose. Instead of all out searches, she only did perfunctory look-throughs of the nearby areas, and chose only to take medi-gel when we came across salvage, as if we needed it. She chased off some looters, talked a couple into making for Mordin's clinic. All standard fare for her. The diplomat was gone, though. Instead, she gave them two choices: Clear out, or face her wrath.

In spite of the fire that wracked my body, we too fell back into old habits, posting up next to each other as each new obstruction blocked our way. Krogan, vorcha, human. All fell to our rifles in dreamlike slow-motion. Even using the unfamiliar Incisor, which had become mine after Shepard had opted to stick with the Mantis, I managed to keep up with the ongoing battle. I just felt... detached. Like I wasn't the one in charge of my own body.

The surreal sensation only increased when we found a ransacked room, the bodies of two dead turians on the floor. Shepard downloaded the logs to her omni-tool, intent on playing them on the go. But I stopped, unable to draw my gaze from a spot in the corner.

" _Jintah Kryus. Formerly of the 313th Cabal... Don't worry, Archangel. I wouldn't dream of sparring with anyone else… you're always welcome to change your mind of course."_ It had been here, hadn't it? The day I realized that Teandra had been appealing because she acted _just_ like most turian women I knew. The fallen warrior woman, my turian biotic... _I should have sent you on your way instead of inviting you into the fold. Spared you the fate of the rest of the team._

I laughed bitterly, a broken sound, catching Shepard's attention again. "You'd have kicked her ass into unconsciousness, laughing the whole time. That's what I told her, Shepard. I'm not sure I was right, though. Now, we'll never know."

I suddenly felt pressure on both shoulder plates, my eyes refocusing on startlingly blue ones. " _Garrus_. Stay with me. We're almost there." She cursed under her breath when I didn't respond right away. "I _never_ should have brought you in here."

"I'm fine, Shepard." I shook my head forcefully, my thought re-centering on the present with reluctance.

"Yeah, _I_ know what F.I.N.E. stands for: Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotionally unstable. We need to get you to Doctor Solus, and fast." Even with my life on the line, she just couldn't help but be a smartass, could she? Not that I would have it any other way.

"I's right up the alley, there, Shepard. Goddam' salarian has dead bodies out to guard it," Zaeed chimed in, that strange accent of his making him sound perpetually drunk. She nodded, dragging me by one arm until I started moving of my own accord, another wave of fire hitting me as she did. _Always knew we had a spark, Shepard. Didn't know it was this literal._ I chuckled again, and Shepard increased pace, shooting me a panicked expression.

Zaeed, apparently amused by the whole situation, snorted, "Was offered a contract on you once, turned it down 'cause I never saw the point. We both wanted the same thing: A whole lot of mercs _dead._ Heard you were a hell of a sniper, though. Hate to see a legend die from the goddam' flu." His derisive tone held a hint of humor, and brought me back a little further from the brink as defensive ire rose. Bought me just enough time, as it turned out.

We moved into the familiar clinic, Shepard waving off the clerks as she moved towards the back, storing her weapons as she went. She moved as if she knew the place, which made me wonder if her Spirit had been keeping me company in her absence, guiding and comforting me the last time I'd been here. The past threatened to envelope me again, images of Jintah and Kheron helping me carry the makeshift stretcher containing Sidonis' wounded body, blue blood pooling around him due to the non-porous material.

_I should have let you die. Should have saved Solus the trouble. Maybe I'll die here in your place, just for the fun of it..._

"Professor Mordin Solus?" I heard Teandra inquire, which dragged me, once again, out of my memories.

She had apparently found the doctor himself, not bothering with waiting like the other patients in the outer room. In spite of the unintentional rudeness displayed by the interruption, he dropped everything and moved forward to examine me immediately. I tried to shake him off, irritated by the special treatment.

"'m alright. No' sick." I managed to slur, causing Shep's eyes to narrow dangerously, while Zaeed simply snorted with derision beside her. I glared at him, deliberately ignoring her reaction, but the old gun-for-hire simply smiled at me in what I was coming to realize was a look similar to one my father used when commenting on the antics of younger men. Though Zaeed, at least, seemed amused by what he saw, rather than disappointed.

"Turian physiology resilient with simple immuno-booster." Mordin ran some kind of tool over me, a slight glow the only indicator of his work before a quick, cooling rush overtook me. I staggered slightly at the change. "Should be fine now."

 _What the fuck?_ I thought as I tried to regain my composure, the sudden change welcome but strange in it's contrast, _That should NOT have effected me like that, or so quickly._ As such, this new development drove the point home that this was no ordinary affliction.

"Now, greetings, human." Patient dealt with, the professor turned his focus back to the redhead.  
"Curious. Don't recognize _you_ from area. Too well armed to be refugees. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out. Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause. The plague. Investigating possible use as a bio-weapon? Not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists..." The doctor seemed as if he would gladly continue to this diatribe for the next few hours, if left unchecked. I had forgotten about his penchant for speaking so quickly, and covering a multitude of subjects in a very small span of time. Shepard wasn't having any of it, though.

"For the love of god, Sherlock, take a breath and slow down the deductions. I came her to find _you_. I'm Commander Shepard, I'm on a critical mission, and I need your help." Her brusque manner once again held her trademark humor, seemingly misplaced considering how close I'd been to death's door not moments before. Technically, though, the danger had passed, and with it any reason for concern. _On with the mission, huh?_ _Adapt and overcome._

Mordin seemed taken aback by the abruptness of her statement. _Trust me, you get used to it. Eventually._

"Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?"

"Ever heard of Cerberus?" She responded, eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms.

"Crossed paths on occasion. Thought they only worked with humans." He stared at me. Pointedly. "Turian involvement surprising. Racial tension with humans. Unlikely to help a human-centric organization."

 _I'm not. I'm helping Shepard._ I crossed my arms, taking note of the fact that Mordin didn't make it known that we were acquainted. It was possible that he didn't remember me, but with his obvious intelligence, I doubted that. While I was unsure of why he would chose to remain anonymous, after everything he'd done for me the last time we'd crossed paths, I owed him at least enough to respond in kind.

"This mission reaches far beyond mere human interests, Professor. We all have to work together if we're going to take down the Collectors." My voice was back to normal, and I was still in awe of how quickly I had recovered. In a way, I wondered how much of it had been psychosomatic, the product of an overactive imagination once the first symptoms had appeared. But I knew that was bullshit; even at the bridge, I'd never been far gone enough to let it affect my warrior mentality.

"Collectors. Interesting. Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of the few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar. But must stop plague first. Already have cure. Need to distribute it to environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them."

Shepard's sigh of exasperation was almost tangible. "Just once, just **once** , I'd like to ask someone for help and hear them say, 'Sure. Let's go. Right now. No stings attached.'" She said with a roll of her eyes, settling back onto one hip with a single hand on it, the other gesturing wildly.

"Hey!" I said half-jokingly, pretending to offended, "I've never put a price on _my_ loyalty."

She paused, visibly taken aback as she considered this more fully, before grinning as she responded in an unfamiliarly accented voice, "Does anyone _else_ ever say, 'Sure...'"

Mordin interrupted our byplay. "Life is a negotiation. We all want. We all _give_ to get what we want." He seemed amused at being able to return her earlier favor by breaking into her little speech. Then again, I'd never been very good at reading salarian voice cues, so I could have been mistaken.

"Great. Look, Doc: I didn't take "Bullshit 101" at the Academy. Philosophy isn't my thing." Her words were interrupted by a metallic whine as the fan on the ceiling slowly came to a stop. _Fucking wonderful. Now what?_

"That wasn't a good noise," I observed, earning another sarcastic look from the Commander.

"You think? _So_ glad your observational skills didn't suffer permanent damage," she responded with a tilt of the head, second hand moving to the other hip. "I was _really_ missing those on our stroll to the clinic."

Not surprisingly, the professor behaved as if he hadn't heard us. "Vorcha have shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Have to get power back on before district suffocates. Here, take plague cure. Also, bonus in good faith. Weapon of Blue Suns mercs, may come in handy against Vorcha." He handed her an absolutely _enormous_ pistol. Her eyes lit up as she hefted it, her small hands almost dwarfed by the damn thing.

"One more thing. Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims. Hasn't come back." He still never slowed his speech or his movements as he bustled about the room, even ducking below the table at one point as he went to retrieve the weapon.

"I'll look for him," she reassured him, already moving out the door while admiring the new firearm. "If I see him, I'll do anything I can."

"Thank you. Told him not to go. But he's smart. Bright future. **I hope,** " he called after us. I heard Teandra sighing heavily as we headed towards the outer door. We were soldiers, always had been, and we took each new problem in stride. And yet... and yet, I couldn't help but notice that she look tired again, just as she had two days before.

The day before last, I'd played it off as exhaustion over the mission and its aftermath; from her reeling at all the changes. I wasn't so sure about that under the light of day. Her exuberance was fading into the background again.

_Screw that. Discontentment is one thing, but all-out depression, Teandra? That just won't do._

As she holstered her new weapon in favor of her Mantis, I laughed, commenting, "Yeah. Better put that thing away. Zaeed was feeling threatened."

"Screw you, turian." The man in question didn't even miss a beat at the unexpected joke, countering, "It's going to take more than that little thing to make me jealous. Did you have me mixed up with your goddamn reflection?"

Drawing my own weapon, and noting the sarcastic smirk on Shepard's face with satisfaction, I retorted, "Sorry, mercenary, I think you're mistaking me for Taylor." Zaeed grunted in amusement, and I used the lull to shoulder my Incisor as the door whooshed open.

"Once more unto the breach, eh, Shepard?" I said, watching as her Mantis followed my Incisor.

She stopped, smiling at me briefly, for a moment ignoring the dangers we were about to face all over again. Then she shook off the moment of camaraderie, turning back to the doorway as she jogged forward into the next battleground without looking back.

Some things never change, and some things do. The one unalienable truth I believed above all others was this.

Warriors: We live hard, love hard, play hard, then die with a gun in our hands and a bullet in our teeth. What made Teandra different? She was the only woman I knew that tried to do them all at the same time, and dragged the rest of us willingly with her as she jumped into the fire.

* * *

I stared at the datapad in my talons, wondering if I concentrated hard enough whether the numbers would fix themselves. When that didn't work, I sighed. There was no getting around it: I was going to have to head down to Engineering to see what was going on. _The fluctuations in the power output are throwing the targeting off. The amount is minuscule, but 'off' is 'off'. If we're within 100 kilometers, it won't make all that much difference. Anything further, however, and it could miss the enemy completely..._

I was finally getting enough downtime to really look at the _Normandy's_ weapons systems. While they were top of the line, they still needed constant tweaking, and I'd been working on them almost non-stop since picking up the Professor. The only true interruption to my work was a mission to pick up the next person in Shep's dossier collection, a krogan warlord named Okeer. That assignment was a bust, but we'd been saddled with some 'pure' krogan in his stead. He was currently being held in stasis in the cargo hold, and when Shep woke him up, things were going to get... interesting. Somewhere between entertaining and _"Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die."_

Running into Rana had been amusing, to say the least. I was surprised she'd made it off Virmire in one piece. Then again, _she'd_ sounded surprised to see us as well.

" _I'm going to run before you blow the place up or something. I know how you work." The woman states as she walks away, Shepard's laughter ringing behind her._

_I can't resist getting in on the joke, commenting loudly to her retreating back, "I'm all for second chances. I'm not so sure on third ones." The asari shoots me a panicked glare, then breaks into a run._

I made my way past the sleeper pods from the front guns, with my head still bent over my datapad, which is probably why I didn't notice Teandra _or_ Kelly in my path. Still, it wouldn't have concerned me, except for the fact that _I_ was the subject of their discussion. The ship's 'counselor' had a reputation for many things, not the least of which were butting her nose in where it shouldn't be and 'fraternizing' with half the crew. Watching her try to analyze Teandra, who never revealed anything true about herself willingly, was something I wasn't going to miss for anything in the known galaxy.

I sidled up next to Gardner with a grin, making no attempt to hide the fact that I was eavesdropping. The old man shot me a knowing leer before turning his gaze back to the pair of women as he absently ladled more food into several multicolored bowls.

"So how's our newest turian crew member doing?" Kelly asked as she sat down across from the Commander, blue tray in hand. "His injuries look painful."

"He's been through a lot, and not just physically, but he's tough." Teandra replied absently, taking up a spoonful of soup and studiously trying not to look up. It was quite obvious the Commander was upset by this interruption to her work. At least, obvious to everyone except Kelly, it seemed.

Kelly took a moment to mirror Shepard's action, then launched back into her interrogation. "There's something about him. I just wanna hold him close and whisper, 'It will be all right.'" Gardner snorted next to me, and I shook my head in exasperation as I placed it in a palm, sincerely hoping Joker wasn't listening. _I'm never going to hear the end of this_ , I thought as I looked back up.

"I know just what you mean," Teandra replied, smirking mystically, eyes still trained on the pad. That smirk said one of two things: Either she was playing to her audience (though whether she knew I was a member of said audience was unclear), or she was playing along in order to see just where Kelly was going with this line of conversation.

Or, she could be hoping that Kelly would let out enough rope to hang herself, as the saying went, which, knowing Teandra as I did, was likely. Either way, it would prove to be entertaining, no doubt.

Seemingly disconcerted by the lack of reaction she was garnering, Kelly decided to try to engage Teandra in conversation one last time, waving her spoon about slightly as she did so. "You two would make a _such_ a cute couple." My quiet laugh coincided with Gardner's chuckle from our perch in the galley. The old man elbowed me, only to encounter my armor and cringe as it dinged into the metal. This served to increase my amusement, and the decibel of my laughter.

Finally fed up, Shepard dropped her work with exaggeration, looking up. "Kelly, let's just halt this conversation right here. A) He's not into humans, he's always been _very_ clear on that, so don't waste your time. And B) Garrus and I are friends, that's it. End of story."

The girl seemed confused at either the reaction itself, or the severity of the words that were spoken. "You don't seem to be 'just' friends. Are you really that far in denial? Or are you still waiting on Alenko?"

Teandra looked around the galley, briefly taking in the number of people around her, her displeasure at the topic of conversation apparent. Then again, she seemed more distracted than usual, because somehow she _still_ missed me standing over by the cook. _You lose points in the attention to detail department, Shepard. Ashley would be disappointed._ Teandra nodded as if coming to a decision, leaning closer to the other redhead and lowering her voice before replying harshly to her question.

"Normally, I'd tell you to mind your own damn business. However, since everyone _thinks_ the very thing you just stated, though _not_ everyone had the quad to say it, I'll answer." She raised her voice once again, only this time it was at a level that was sure to make the whole galley privy to their 'conspiring', "Scuttlebutt be damned, Vakarian accepts my friendship for _exactly_ what it is, with all the attachments and baggage. Most men run away screaming when they find out I'm not some great hero, but he stayed with no incentive other than my companionship. For that, he has my trust." She paused for a minute, considering, before going on in the exact same tone and volume level as before, "As for Alenko, I don't know _what_ the hell the answer is. _He_ quit on _me,_ remember? He's probably off on some mission to discredit my name, too, as if I'm not already set in that department ." She stood up, seeming to be more than a little flustered as she said, "I better go." Her food forgotten in her attempt to escape.

"Let's make some time to talk later," Kelly said, completely overlooking the anti-social tenor of their entire conversation. "I'll be in the CIC if you need anything." Shepard rolled her eyes but didn't comment, head already buried in her 'pad again, thoughts distinctly centered back on her work.

I watched the redhead retreat, heading towards the elevator, and I took a moment to digest what I'd just 'overheard.' Her words would only have been spoken at that level if she _wanted_ an audience. Manipulative as always, she had used Kelly to let her new crew know, in no uncertain terms, where she stood on a variety of topics. Love, relationships, the Council's rejection.

Us.

 _Glad to know we're still on the same page, because for a minute there, she was giving off signals..._ But no, that settled it once and for all. In Shepard's mind, nothing had changed where she and I were concerned from the days of the SR1. And why would they? Not nearly enough time had passed, at least for her, to have changed her mind. Unlike my own two years without her.

Besides, hadn't I decided a long time ago to let this _thing_ between us pass, unspoken and eschewed? That her friendship and trust meant more than bedding her, much like I had so many other girls? Yes, I had. Right about the time she started screwing Alenko. Then again, that was before my mind had latched onto the idea in her absence and assaulted me with all those erotic images...

Still engaging in idle introspection, I moved forward, intent on taking the tray she had left. At my hand reaching in front of her, though, Kelly looked up sharply. I hadn't met the girl one-on-one yet, but I was surprised by the intelligence that lay behind her eyes. The few conversations I'd overheard her participating in made her seem almost... well, flighty. _Ditzy_ was the term Shepard would have used, but that carefree attitude didn't reach her eyes, a fact that most people would overlook.

I am not most people.

I knew too many individuals who were skilled in subterfuge to _ever_ make that mistake. Especially with humans. They had trouble keeping emotion from their eyes in particular, a slip I had used in more than one interrogation. And with Shepard, come to think of it. Not that I would ever tell her that.

"Vakarian," she said evenly, matching my gaze. None of the fear the uninitiated carried when up close to a turian, that tense wariness, was present in her body language. My estimation of her intelligence went up another notch.

Matching her deadpan, I responded, "Chambers."

"Something I can help you with?" There was a genuine interest there, in spite of the easy voice she now used. Multiple layers within the wording.

I took the edge of Shepard's tray, answering by way of lifting it as I responded, "Nope. Think I'm all set in the hugs department, but thanks for the offer." I didn't even wait for a reaction, knowing if I didn't turn away I'd crack up and ruin the effect of the remark. Her expression must have been something to see, though, because the now mostly-full galley started hooting with laughter.

I dropped the leftover food with Gardner, his humorous look nearly identical to my own (no mean feat, when you're talking about two men from very different species), and made my own way towards the elevator. _This place is as bad as the SR1. Then again, the_ Warlord _was no better. Guess soldiers are the same no matter what the species; intrigued by gossip and grasping at whatever entertainment they can scrounge up._

"Hey Chambers," I heard someone call as the doors closed, "guess there's one alien you won't be 'evaluating'!"

"Oh, shut up, Hawthorne."

 _You know what, to hang around the human women I meet, you'd never know Relay 314 even happened. Well, except for Ashley, and even she relented in the end, somewhat,_ I thought sardonically.

Joker hadn't been kidding about the pace of the metal contraption, but it had a comforting familiarity about it. I'd had many a reflective moment in the elevator on the first _Normandy_ , and it seemed I would have the pleasure of doing so again on this version of the ship. I moved left after it arrived at the engineering deck, unsure of where my quarry lay. I deduced that following the voices I was hearing to their source would solve my problem.

"I've got green across the board. The forward tanks are full and elevated," came a feminine voice, with an inflection pattern that somewhat reminded me of Teandra, actually. No matter what my friend was talking about, there was something about the way she spoke that just said volumes about who she was: A playful troublemaker who was all fun and games. In a way, that was almost accurate, except in the Commander's case, 'fun and games' usually involved multiple explosions and heavy gunfire.

There was a good line for me to try on her, right there, if I ever changed my mind about letting this whole relationship thing run it's course. _Hey, if you want to do something intimate, Teandra, we can always blow something up together._ She didn't even have to be here for me to see the resulting eye roll by way of response.

 _Yeah, real smooth, tough guy,_ I laughed to myself. _You sleep your way through the turian military, but some human hero shows up and you stumble over your words like its your first mating dance._

Another voice, male this time, with an accent not unlike the one Shepard had used in Mordin's clinic earlier, responded to the other feminine one, "Are you talking about the _Normandy_ or Miranda?"

"I'm talking about the one that's covered and protected, not bouncing in the breeze," the woman retorted, not bothering to hide her contempt for the XO.

"I don't know, I think Operative Lawson's uniform is _very_ official. It always makes _me_ stand at attention."

The woman didn't sound remotely put off by the topic of conversation, only replying with resignation at her partner's ways, "You're such a dog."

 _By the Spirits, they sound like us,_ I thought, coming through the doorway. Two heads snapped towards me immediately as I commented, "You should try asking Joker his opinion. I'm sure he'd agree with you. Me? I don't do the human thing." _Which is true... with one exception. I'm a horrible damn turian._

The pair looked at me somewhat askance for a minute, as if trying to figure out if I was kidding or not. Apparently deciding on the former, the trepidation left their faces, for the most part, and I took the moment to introduce myself.

"Garrus Vakarian. I'm the one working on the forward batteries."

"Engineer Gabriella Daniels, and this is Ken." She seemed to be mocking him, and since he shot her an amused look, I could only assume it was some sort of running joke.

 _Wonder if Shepard's met these two yet. Forget_ sounding _like us; I think I just met our twins._

She held out a hand, which I shook, the motion not unfamiliar. "Call me Gabby. I'm going to assume you're here about the power fluctuations."

"Hit it in one. They're throwing the targeting system off."

"It's the damn power couplings. There's an array of attenuators in the primary power transfer system..." Ken started saying.

"That channels the field bleed. I know. I take it there's a problem?" I might have been sniper, but I'd also been a mechanic, an MP, and a slew of other occupational specialties over the course of my military career. I wasn't completely out of my league when it came to the basics of how engines worked.

"We asked Commander Shepard to look into some T-6 FBA couplings next time she hit the Omega markets. Not sure if she'll have time..." Ken began again, only to be interrupted for the second time by his female counterpart.

"She'll do it. She came to see us, didn't she? Just like I said she would," Gabby chimed in, "At least, she _was_ here until you bored her to death with the tech."

"Bored her with tech? Shepard? Never. She was probably just in a hurry." Shepard was almost as adept as I was at everyday technical crap. She'd helped me work on the MAKO more than once on the SR1, which, in retrospect, should have been beneath her. She wasn't any more on par with the engineers than I probably was, but she could keep up with the jargon well enough. This earned me an appraising look from Gabby and a question from Ken.

"Know the Commander, do ya?"

"Yeah, you could say that. We served together on the original _Normandy_."

Recognition lit her face as she spoke, rather excitedly. "You're that C-Sec guy, right? Her second-in-command? We were on the Perugia when the Citadel was attacked. We got to see you guys get pinned with all those awards afterwards."

"Officially, her second was Pressly," I commented. "And please don't remind me about those ceremonies. All _we_ wanted to do was go get drunk off our asses, and _they_ wanted to paste us all over the vids."

"I know the feeling." Ken commented, "Awards ceremonies are damn boring..."

"Wait, you're _him_ aren't you?" Gabby asked, interrupting her counterpart for the third time as her eyes widened. _Oh great. Here we go again..._

"You're the turian in the video, the one with the Commander 'celebrating.'" Ken guffawed as she finished, apparently making the connection as well now, that Gabby had pointed it out.

Teandra had downed many, many, _many_ shots plus two bottles of rum that night, about a week after the Battle of the Citadel. _Small_ bottles, but still... it had led to her apparently deciding to entertain the entire crowd at Lapsus by seductively dancing to some tune from her collection. This would have been more than enough fodder for the media on its own, but the media wasn't satisfied to leave it at that. What added to it's extranet popularity was that at least one person filming it had noticed she was singing not to the crew of the _Normandy_ in general, but to _me_ , and had caught all of my reactions on camera. The extended version, which also featured a random asari trying to make out with her, was even worse. The final straw had been the one of me fishing her sopping wet out of the fountain in the lobby, bodily throwing her over my shoulder, and carrying her into the hotel elevator with her cursing at me in old turian.

It was a great night, all things considered, but it had cost her the respect of more than a few people in politics. The ones who assumed the worst, and didn't like the idea of their great human hero courting a turian, even one from a prominent family. A sentiment that was reversed but mirrored, if only unofficially, by the Hierarchy. It had only proven how right we both were to keep things platonic, since political fallout _had_ been something that crossed my mind at the time. I wasn't sure I cared anymore, but this was still a Cerberus vessel. Just because the crew was being nice didn't make me naive enough to believe they would be any more accepting of such a union than the rest of Citadel space.

"It _really_ wasn't what it looked like. Trust me." They shared a look I knew all too well, and I realized I was probably looking at the only two people in the galaxy who _might_ actually believe me, or at least understand the concept that men and women _could_ be friends.

"Officer Vakarian," a new voice entered the conversation.

"What do you want, EDI?"

"You instructed me to inform you when Commander Shepard breached the krogan's tank. She has just activated the sequence."

I snickered, holding up a talon and saying, "Excuse me just ONE moment."

"She need help with him?" Gabby asked, falling in step behind me.

"Nope," I replied with a chuckle. "This is going to be better than that riot that broke out when _Vaenia_ released. I've _gotta_ see this."

I came around the corner, watching through the windows as the 'baby' krogan stood up, charging Teandra and pinning her to the wall.

"EDI, broadcast internal sound through my omni-tool, please?" I said calmly. I wasn't worried about her, not yet, though I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit her choice not to wear armor to this little 'meeting' bothered me a bit. Probably didn't want to appear threatening, but that didn't stop me from wondering how well her new upgrades would handle the roughhousing.

Immediately, my tool began glowing, and the sound of the conversation taking place in the cargo hold filled the small space. Gabby and Ken moved closer behind me, and I flared my mandibles in a smile, waving them forward and motioning through the window. "Watch this."

Might as well make this a lesson in trust for the crew. Scuttlebutt, as Shepard had put it earlier, would spread about how she handled this situation; possibly further solidify the respect the SR2 team had for her. And how well I could gauge her abilities as a soldier. _Much as you don't want to admit it, you realize you're_ thinking _like an XO, right?_ _Wouldn't Dad be proud?_

"Aren't you going to do anything? He could kill her!" Ken exclaimed, voice concerned, in stark contrast to my own thoughts.

"Kill Shepard? I doubt that. Not if she's conscious," he looked unconvinced. I continued reassuringly, "If she can't talk her way out of this, she'll fight. And win." I glanced back again, catching dual incredulous looks this time. I sighed.

"Just watch. Trust me." I tapped a few more keys to slightly increase the volume on my 'tool.

" _I feel nothing for Okeer's clan, or his enemies. I will do what I am bred to do, fight and determine the strongest, but his imprint has failed. Without a reason that's mine, one fight is as good as any other. Might as well start with you."_

" _I have a good ship and a strong crew, a strong clan. You'd make it stronger."_

Through the window, we watched as he seemed to mull this over. _"If you're weak and choose weak enemies, I'll have to kill you."_

"That'll be the day," I scoffed. The engineers just continued to watch the interchange, stunned, eyes glued to the windows.

" _Our enemies are worthy. No doubt about that."_

And that would be Shepard practicing her understatement skills.

" _Hmm."_ The krogan considered this. " _Hmph. That's... acceptable. I'll fight for you."_

He released her, stepping back to reveal her new hand-cannon at his gut just as she said, _"I'm_ so _glad you saw reason. Blood is such a pain in the ass to get out of synthetic fabric."_

Clapping and cheering, quickly muffled, came from behind me at Shepard's actions. The krogan continued, _"Hmm... offer one hand but arm the other. Wise, Shepard. If I find a Clan, if I find what I want, I will be honored to eventually pit them against you."_

I shut off the omni-tool, glancing back at the pair. "Shepard's a big girl. And if she said she'd get the couplings, she will. I'll see if I can get her to hurry up about it, though, and save us both some maintenance time."

The pair retreated as Shepard exited the room, Gabby saying, "Did you see that gun?" at the same time Ken stated, "Facing down a krogan in close quarters. I wouldn't a believed it if I hadn't seen it!"

She caught sight of me then, and grinned.

"Didn't want to lend a hand with the kid?" She worked her shoulder slightly as we fell into step together, moving into the elevator. I looked down at her shorter form as she hit the button for both the crew deck and the CIC, responding with a chuckle I couldn't quite hide.

"And ruin your attempts at one-upping me in the badass department? Not a chance, little Spectre."

After a moment of silence, in which she continued to work her shoulder almost reflexively, I asked, "Old injuries bothering you, huh? "

"I'm not sure," she sounded both contemplative and dismissive. "It's the same shoulder I hurt on both Akuze and at the Citadel, but it _shouldn't_ hurt. This is supposed to be a new body, right? It's _got_ to be in my head."

"Maybe not," I thought for a minute. "You said they were trying to recreate you as you were, so maybe they included that, too."

"Then why did they take Carra's tattoo from me?" She pulled her collar to the left, exposing skin that once upon a time had held a dark emblem. Thinking back to what it had looked like, I realized it had been the Ixian symbol for 'friends forever.'

"I don't know, little Spectre. I wouldn't put it past Cerberus to screw with your head that way. Make you feel isolated and cut off. It's a standard tactic for breaking a prisoner."

"Don't I know it. For all the pretty presents, our partnership with them _is_ a sort of prison." She seemed to consider this for a second. "I think it's about time we went and addressed the Council. Just to make sure we are truly cut off from all resources before bedding the devil."

"What _great_ visual imagery, Shepard." The elevator came to a stop as I finished speaking, and I placed a taloned hand over the edge of the doors before she could close them.

"So, feel like reinstating a tradition?" I asked. "There's been some really good movie releases while you were out of commission."

"Such as?

I thought for a moment. _"Check and Mate_ wasn't bad, if you find the idea of an Asari entering a chess tournament on Earth believable. Then there was _Nekyia Corridor_ , but after your last experience with similstims, I wouldn't think you'd want to play with one again." My tally was cut off by my partner, expression drained.

"Not tonight, actually, if that's okay?" She sighed, smiling slightly.

A little hurt, I shrugged and started to open my mouth to tell her it was fine, but she never gave me the chance. "I think I need something more engaging, less mindless. So speaking of chess, my room came equipped with a new set, since the wooden one Anderson gave me went down with the SR1. Cut crystal, and it's not the same, but... will that work instead?" She seemed almost nervous as the words came out in a rush, as if worried her new proposition would scare me away.

I tilted my head, confused by the change in her personality.

"Of course." She exhaled visibly, and some of her tension leaked away. Tension I hadn't even realized she'd been holding until it was gone, "but no spotting me pieces. In fact, I think I might even need to step my game down a notch." The display of apprehension intrigued me. She had never seemed to put so much stock into my choices and decisions before, and the damn near skittish behavior she was currently displaying was completely out of character.

Character that returned slightly as life flared in her tired eyes, the prospect of the renewed challenge lighting her face, something I was seeing less and less each day since rejoining the _Normandy_.

_That needs to change. Starting this evening. It is now my personal goal to make sure these Cerberus bastards don't wear you down, Teandra._

"You're on, Vakarian. 1800. _Just_ you wait." _Ah, there's the smile I remember so well. Like the one she gave me before Ilos._

She reached up, reaching to playfully shove my hand off the door as she pressed the button to close it. As fingers met talons, though, a small and unexpected jolt went through me at the contact. I was pretty sure she felt it too, because blushing profusely all over again, she dropped her eyes as the door closed.

I was still laughing when the elevator began moving again, on the way up to the CIC. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was more than a little confused, especially after her little speech upstairs. But I also was beginning to recognize something: she was acting like many a protagonists in those vids she was always watching. A part of me, the one that wanted to protect myself from another rejection, wanted to lay the blame on another crew member; but I knew better.

She was having that reaction to _me_. Didn't mean a damn thing, because I doubted there was more to it than the physical attraction that had _always_ been there. It was more like I was better able to recognize the signs, now that it occurred to me what I was looking for. I hadn't been misreading her signals. I just, subconsciously, knew better than to give them more credence than I already had been.

_Glad to know my intuition is still as good as ever. Even if the rest is all just a whimsical dream._

Whatever and wherever this whole new aspect of our relationship was leading, I still retained the hope that maybe, just maybe, we could salvage our old friendship in spite of all the new changes. Only time would tell one way or the other. In the meanwhile? I was more than happy to enjoy the prospect of there being something more while it lasted.

Unhealthy, since I knew we never even had a shot to begin with. But that still couldn't keep me from fantasizing, could it?


	5. Castles in the Air

_'Cause I feel the distance between us_

_Could be over with the snap of your fingers..._

Kelly Clarkson - "I Do Not Hook Up"

 

**Chapter 4 - Castles in the Air**

_Shepard,_

_I am sending this message personally since I have been assured by Operative Lawson that you disregard her instruction continually simply on principal. As such, may I remind you that while our resources are extensive, they are not inexhaustible. This makes some of your more recent purchases, most notable of which was Jeff Moreau's upgrade to the Fornax: Deluxe Edition (which was approved by you) something of a concern. At this time, I am hoping further action on my part will not be necessary for you to take this seriously, and to avoid future waste of resources, both monetary and otherwise._

_The Illusive Man_

_**Dearest** _ _Tim,_

_Does that mean I have to cancel the drell personal masseuse I requisitioned?_

_Teandra_

Checking your inbox... it had never pained me before as much as it did on the SR2. I'd almost gotten Kelly to a point where she got rid of the junk before I saw it, with instructions to forward all spam to Lawson for 'cataloging and analysis.' A perfect example of killing two birds with one stone: I had less to deal with, _and_ I got to annoy Miranda. I sighed.

 _Sometimes I wonder if I'm too hard on her. She hasn't exactly had an easy life either._ Then, I'd remember some arrogant comment she'd made. As for the spam? I was pretty sure she was already reading them, anyway. So here was hoping she'd save herself the later work by deleting the crap outright.

The biggest difference between checking messages now versus before? Being famous made it easier for every person I'd ever managed to find a lost kitten for or talk out of doing something stupid to find me. You never realize what an effect your words have on a person until after the fact, that's for sure. I was inundated with notes from random people I barely remembered, and while it was somewhat heartwarming, it was also frustrating. After all, they'd taken the time to send me their well-wishes, so I felt obligated to respond in turn.

Then, once you added the little 'suggestions' from Tim about missions he'd like done, and the note from Anderson about reporting ASAP? Well, it was a good thing I was sitting at my desk; it made it so much easier to put my head in my hands when it got overwhelming. And to take notes, as each message added to my ever growing to do list.

 _I'm already saving the damn galaxy, but you want me to drop everything for_ this _?_ I thought as I glanced at the latest request from Cerberus, something about tracking down a lost operative. _You really spent all those credits on me for me to become the universes' most expensive private eye?_

I just didn't understand people somedays.

Still, until today, sorting through notes that made it past the yeoman had helped distract me from other, much bigger problems. Anderson's request for an audience made me nervous simply because of the official tone of the letter. He was damn near like a father to me, and yet he was treating me like a subordinate. The implications of that were troublesome, to say the least, and gave the rumors about the Council's standing on the events of the Battle of the Citadel much more credence. I needed to get back to the people who were supposed to be supporting me and set things straight.

I'm usually pretty good at the whole tact thing, but the fact that I'd sacrificed soldier's lives to save them only to have them toss me aside? Yeah, it burned. I _thought_ I'd secured humanity's place. Instead, I'd forced us into a role _no one_ thought we were ready for. Being that diplomat, while surrounded by so much opposition, was growing more and more difficult with each passing day.

I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes for a moment, finally succumbing and laying my forehead on the cool metal of my desk in exhaustion.

I was so damn _worn out_. I'd never felt this tired in my life, like every movement and decision I made was an effort. At first, I'd figured maybe this new body had some chemical and hormonal issues that were unresolved. That could explain it. Science _fiction_ aside, the Lazarus project was a one-of-a-kind endeavor, and I was the only test subject. It should have creeped me out, the idea of being some Leeloo made real, but it didn't. At least, not nearly as much as the fact that Cerberus had been the ones to do it.

And once that occurred to me, it all made sense, in a twisted sort of way.

There is no word in _any_ language I'm privy to that is sufficient to describe my hatred of that organization. Akuze had been bad, but in the end, I found myself forced to admit there was a certain scientific and tactical advantage to the actions Cerberus had taken. Didn't excuse their shit, or what they'd put Toombs through, but it explained it. No, my loathing stemmed from something much more selfish: until the thresher, throughout seven years of military service, I'd heard hardly a peep out of Red. My own almost-schizo nightmare entity.

She'd been my default setting while under Finch's reign, and it was only the coincidence (irony? fate?) of choosing Anderson's pocket to pick when I made my run for it that saved me from her. Once I got to basic, she'd lain low: made an occasional suggestion here, a darkly humorous comment there, and left it at that. It wasn't like she controlled or was separate from me at that time, much as I referred to her as a separate entity. She was more like those stupid shoulder angel/devils Elayne always found so amusing on the animated vids. When the projector was working, that is.

Then, after that fateful day when fifty comrades fell, Red's purpose was made much more clear as she forced her way forward to take control for the first time in years.

She was what made me survive, no matter what the cost. If that meant I had to tear down everything and everyone around me in the process, then so be it. It wouldn't have been such a horrible scenario, except that it wasn't just a battlefield instinct. Attacks on my mental stability made me just as susceptible to her thoughts as physical ones. Her idea of tact was saying, "Fuck it" and using the many skills we possessed to destroy all opposition, and damn the consequences, no matter what logic stated. To fight against her, every day, was my punishment for not dying when Jackson and Elayne did. In a way, I often wondered if Teandra _had_ died that night. I'd never been the same carefree girl again.  And that only got worse after Akuze.

Maybe, one day, I'd have the strength to try to purge Red from my life for good, but meanwhile? All I knew was that I didn't just blame Cerberus for the thresher. I blamed them for that bitch in my head resurfacing. The one that was getting easier to listen to with each passing mission.

I had found myself doing and saying things I didn't like one bit. Placating Mordin about his place in the second genophage? That was tact, and nothing more, and could be rationalized. But _not_ berating Garrus for his murderous plans for his old friend? That wasn't like me at all. Not at all.

Which led me to my _other_ problem. What the _hell_ was I going to do about Garrus?

He wasn't giving me any problems professionally. In that regard, he was more than I ever could have hoped for or expected when I went looking for that new XO, especially in light of my past experiences with him. Unofficial as the position was, he was meshing with the crew almost as well as a human would have, in spite of the obvious obstacle to that scenario. Gossip was the lifeblood of any space-faring vessel, and I always kept an eye on what was being said, even if I never commented or believed half of it. The funny thing that had come to my attention? They respected him.

A lot. Not just for the obvious reasons, either.

Everyone knew of his involvement in the fight against Saren. Some even knew about our little adventures at _Lapsus_ and were nice to him out of respect for me. A very select few even knew of his work on Omega, and were in awe of what he'd done there protecting the downtrodden population. Frustratingly enough, even _I_ was having trouble getting reports on everything that had gone down during the almost two years he'd been there. A situation I meant to fix once I had more ammunition to use to pry the info out of Garrus.

Mostly, he had earned their loyalty and respect because he'd made his talents and expertise available for whatever little projects the _Normandy_ needed, be it technical, tactical, or organizational. In spite of his choice to isolate himself in the forward batteries, he always made it clear that anyone who didn't want to bother me with small things could inform him, and he'd make sure it got done. All this was on top of his constant work to the forward guns in his down time.

Hell, if I were to listen to Ken and Gabby, he walked on water. Especially once they got a look at the specs for the Thanix Canon that he'd forwarded to me. It was encouraging, to say the least, to see the crew of a Cerberus run vessel taking so well to the alien in their midst.

He was playing nice with everyone, was actually doing the job I had originally wanted for the 'Archangel.' All without me ever having asked, or even implying, that I needed him to do so. Two years had taught him how to be a leader of troops, as well as giving him an on ground knowledge of how much command work went into research and intel analysis. Those skills were doing him well in the position he'd taken upon himself, and I couldn't be more proud of the man he'd become.

No, it was the _other_ position I found myself wanting him to fill that was a problem.

_And Spirits, that sounds wrong even in my own head._

Being back near him was like some kind of self-inflicted torture. At first, I'd been unable to pinpoint what caused the change in my perspective, what was making me experience this strange, life altering and perception shattering clenching around my heart every time we came in contact. 'Til I thought about how close I'd come to losing him all over again on Omega. Losing him _twice_ , in what to my reconstructed psyche was almost as many days, was enough to rip open the wounds of loneliness sending him on his own way had created. Letting him go at the Citadel, free to move on with his own life, was one thing. But to lose him for real...

_I swear, before whatever higher powers are listening, I'll fight the grim reaper himself if he ever comes near Garrus again. That is a promise no one who values their life need ever test._

The severity of that conviction, of that emotion, was burning me to the core of all my principals. Of all the lessons Finch had taught me to live by.

Garrus had been hurt and betrayed; abandoned by me and the rest of the galaxy. Yet he'd still been strong even on the cusp of his death. He hadn't been despairing, only resolved in his decision to honor his fallen. It was a strength to rival, possibly even to surpass, my own. That determination that put him in a new light, a perspective that was _very_ appealing on so many levels. I'd never expected to live through the Battle of the Citadel. I still didn't expect to live through _this_ little adventure, either. Planning like that allowed you to take those off-the-wall, completely insane risks others wouldn't dare consider. It was _how_ you survived against all odds, because you didn't anticipate surviving _any_ of the crazy ideas you came up with. You didn't plan on being around to reap the rewards of your 'heroic' actions.

I turned my head, gazing at the picture of my former lover that Cerberus had so _thoughtfully_ provided.

That suicidal penchant was a concept Kaidan would never understand, sweetheart that he could be. He'd always been an individual that made it clear he had plans for his life: love, children, a career. Admirable aspirations, but... The first of those I didn't _have_ to give to anyone. The second I wouldn't give, even if it were physically possible after the sexual trauma of my childhood. Insanity was usually hereditary, and I was determined this breed of it would end with me. The third, if dear old Tim were telling the truth, Alenko'd already secured for himself. Going from Lieutenant to Commander in two years? It was almost unheard of within the Alliance ranks, and I was happy for him. I really was.

Garrus, on the other hand, knew me well enough to know that none of those things would ever happen in a relationship with me. And yet, once upon a time, he'd still wanted it. Still wanted _me_ , not in spite of but _because_ of all the things that made me different. He accepted me as the whole package that I was, not some picturesque wife fill-in that he wanted me to be. Still, I wasn't entirely sure I was willing to subject him to the full complement of my craziness, even if he _were_ willing. There were still things about my past he didn't know, Carra only being one of them. If he knew the truth about my assassinations, about how much danger our first sparring match had actually put him in? Well, I wasn't ready to face the idea of him turning his back on me, too.

I sat back up, shaking my head forcefully at the memory of my fist hitting his cheek.

I was perfectly aware that my views made me a damn hypocrite for hitting him over his suicide attempt. But I'd been _so_ damn angry; terrified by the idea that any delay I might have chosen, had I not been selfish enough to want to go after the logical tactical choice instead of Cerberus's first choice, would have left me to discover nothing but a cold corpse.

I hadn't told him, would probably _never_ tell him, but that image had joined my ritual repertoire of nightmares. This one forced me to relive that run across the bridge. Except this time it was eerily silent, gunfire absent, the sound of my heavy breathing my only companion. Me alone passing those body bags, mounting those fateful stairs, and finding Garrus in a pool of congealed blue. Crying as I flung myself over him, feeling the skin that normally ran so warm instead chilly to my touch.

As cold as the cast-iron I insisted on encasing myself with where he was concerned. I put my face in my hands again, still buried in my wallowing.

That's why I had hit him. Because it was the only way I knew to express how much he'd terrified me when that gunship took him down, how much he'd screwed with my comfortable perceptions. _I wasn't supposed to fucking care_. The conflict, the indecisiveness, was tearing me in two.

Angry, I looked up again, forcing myself to press the key to move me to the next message. To my astonishment, my friend's name jumped out at me from the screen.

_From: Nalah Butler_

_Commander Shepard,_

_My husband was one of the men serving on Garrus' team. I don't how much Garrus talked to you about what happened. I don't know the specifics myself, only that my husband died in a trap set by those bastard gangs. I know Garrus blames himself; he took every shot fired at his squad at a failure on his part, and it was clear when he sent me the message about my husband that he thinks it was his fault._

_My husband would never have wanted that. He was proud of the work he did on Garrus' squad. He was taking back Omega from the gangs. He died fighting with honor. I miss him. God, I'd give anything to get him back. But whatever happened there wasn't Garrus' fault._

_You're his commander now. Please, if you can, help him stop blaming himself. And please don't tell that I sent you this. Thank you._

_\- Nalah Butler_

One line hit me full force. _Help him stop blaming himself..._ I quickly composed a reply, six simple lines.

_Mrs. Butler,_

_I'm very sorry for your loss. It's always hard to lose someone you care for, especially to circumstances such as these. Nothing I say can bring your husband back, but you have my condolences. For all they're worth. Thank you for contacting me, and please let me know if there is anything I can do for you._

_As to Garrus, he's a stubborn individual, but I will try._

_-Teandra Shepard_

As I hit the send key, all I could think was, _Damn it_.

I'd been there. Goddess, how I'd been there. The fact that he was even _functioning_ right now put him way above where I'd been after Virmire. I hadn't been able to compose a letter to Ashley's family for days. He'd had ten to write. And knowing him, I would almost bet he'd done it before setting himself up above that bridge, just in case he didn't make it. Which led me back to the whole fucking _original_ problem.

Why did things have to change? We'd been comfortable before. Uncomplicated. Yet he had this infuriating way of meshing with my life in every aspect that almost made me want to hate him for intruding on my sanctuary. Once again, he was busting down my barriers and carefully established rules. Without even _fucking_ trying. The worst part? He didn't seem to be doing it with any intent of pursuing me in any capacity. It was just a side effect of being in each other's presence.

With past suitors, there had always been that unspoken " _when_ " from them. 

First "when are we going to have sex?" 

Shortly followed by, "When will you admit we're more than friends with benefits?" 

Then finally, "When are we going to move forward?" 

Strangely enough, looking back, the sex had _always_ come before any potential relationship, a relationship that was doomed to start with. So to now find myself in control of whether or not to move things along was disconcerting. I wasn't used to being the one courting rejection. It was a completely novel concept, one I wasn't entirely sure I was comfortable with.

All this was assuming he was still interested. It _had_ been two years, and I hadn't been lying to Kelly about him making it clear he wasn't into humans. But just as he'd gotten under my barriers, _I'd_ gotten under _his,_ somehow. It was entirely possible that I had been some sort of exotic fad he'd been going through at the time. Some kind of 'fuck you' to Papa Vakarian because of my Spectre status.

And we were having fun again, dammit. A concept I didn't realize I'd miss until after I'd left him at the Citadel. Movie nights in the galley were becoming a group affair, much to Miranda's annoyance, with the crew even bringing their own favorite vids to add to the mix. If Garrus or I had ever doubted our ability to cement our place among the crew, those fears had been dispelled by the simple act of laughing together with the everyday grunts that made the ship function. We had never been able to garner that kind of enthusiasm on the SR1. That group had never had family on the line, though, like most of the men and women on board. Many were from the colonies on the outskirts of the Terminus systems. The antics of the growing strike team allowed them to be distracted from the idea that the Collectors might hit their home-world next.

I clicked onto the next message absently, a courtesy copy of an acquisition order that made me grin, both at the timing and in light of my other messages.

That distraction list for the operational crew was growing from day to day. Movies and chess had grown stale for them quickly, and Garrus and I had made it our personal mission to find something new to buck crew morale. _Fleet and Warlords_ had a small following, but I had been forced to reorganize some of the cargo hold to make room for a _Warrior_ area for the crew, as well as a sparring ring. I was _so_ sick of that turian training program it wasn't even funny, yet I'd been forced to order several more simulstim sets to accommodate the crews enthusiasm for it. This had required permission from the turian Hierarchy, which they had reluctantly given after jacking the price up exorbitantly. I'd tried to get Garrus to do the negotiating, but he refused, only to change the subject when I'd tried to pry further. I figured it probably had something to do with dear old daddy Vakarian, but I wasn't positive. Still, I let it lie in hopes that he'd feel ready to tell me one day soon why he and the turian government weren't on speaking terms.

 _By the spirits, I can't wait to see Tim's response to_ that _acquisition order,_ I thought almost gleefully, _especially after his first message this afternoon._

In the meanwhile, the easiest way to distract the crew while we waited on the sets to supplement Garrus's personal supply was by sparring with said turian. We had drawn quite an audience to our five-AM matches, and more than a few weeks wages had exchanged hands due to bets on our skills, much to _both_ our embarrassment. Especially since, thus far, we were the only two to really use the new ring. I figured that might change once we checked off a few more dossiers. _Speaking of which, we should be there pretty soon._ I clicked off the screen in disgust, standing as my muscles protested the extended time in front of the terminal.

 _By the Goddess, I am_ not _looking forward to this next mission,_ I thought as I moved down the short stairway, throwing myself face-first onto the couch.

Purgatory. A suitably human name for a ship run by mostly Blue Suns turians. Fortunately, I had some new tricks up my sleeve for dealing with that particular species, thanks mostly to the very man that was messing up my thought processes. I could only hope it would be enough to get us in and out in one piece.

"Commander?"

"Yes, Joker," I said with a sigh, turning my head to speak around the smooth leather.

"We're approaching the next set of coordinates." With another sigh, I sat up, running a hand through my hair as I considered who to instruct to suit up.

_Might as well take the new kid, see what he's got._

"Thank you. Alert Grunt and..."

"Vakarian, right?" He said smugly, smile evident in his voice.

"Give the boy a solid-gold Kewpie doll," I said with my own smile, one that his eternally cheerful exuberance never failed to draw from me, " _However_ did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

"Shouldn't you be flirting some more with EDI?" I asked as I stood, moving towards my armor locker as I did so.

"I do not flirt, Shepard," a new voice entered the conversation, "I simply make observations that Mr. Moreau continually twists to sound inappropriate. A skill he shares with Officer Vakarian." Joker and I snorted.

"You _really_ creep me out sometimes, EDI," I said as I shook my head, never looking away from the closet, "But I love you anyway."

Joker coughed, regaining his composure after a second. "Aw, that's cute, Shep. You getting friendly with the AI?"

"I would hope _you_ would think so, since I was quoting what _you_ said to her last night." I grabbed the equipment I needed, still defiantly choosing the blue set just for the hell of it.

Joker laughed, though at my choice of suits or my words I didn't know, and a crackle signaled him signing off as I began to don my armor.

Another mission. Maybe, with enough of them, I could somehow manage to anchor our friendship back on solid ground, without the hormones. Conversely, maybe it would at least allow me to be distracted enough I'd forget to blush next time Garrus touched me.

* * *

#####

* * *

"Great idea, little Spectre. We have _such_ a good track record with the Blue Suns, after all. Let's just walk right into some _more_ of their territory." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice, slightly put off by the walls of the space station closing in.

"If the turian is scared of battle, we can do the mission on our own, Shepard," Grunt stated gruffly.

"Oh lord, that's it. I can't handle _any_ more testosterone on my ship. Grunt has finished filling my quota," was Teandra's somewhat amused response.

She looked better today, less exhausted. I would like to brush it off as a good night's sleep, but even _I_ had to admit she'd started looking better and better as we'd resumed old traditions from the SR1.

What had she said that time? " _If you forget why you're doing things in the first place, it's all too easy to forget who you really are."_ Maybe I was helping her remember? By the Spirits, I hoped so, cause it was my turn to do _her_ that favor. Besides, much to my amazement the SR2 was becoming almost like home, and I hoped that eventually she'd feel that way too. The crew was more than accepting, the accommodations better than what I was used to. And the food? Well, Gardner was _more_ than happy to discuss dextro-food choices with me, and I wasn't consuming nutrient paste for long. He had an enthusiasm for finer cuisine that seemed almost out of place. Yet, who was _I_ to judge, since I didn't seem the type either.

I watched as the doors to Purgatory opened, a short walked revealing the armed contingent waiting to greet us. _Only five of them? Really? I think I'm insulted._

"Welcome to the Purgatory, Shepard. Your package is being prepped, and you can claim it shortly. As this is a high security vessel, you'll need to relinquish your weapons before we proceed." The guard's attitude reminded me _fiercely_ of another guard who had greeted us in a similar manner. Matsuo, the Captain, had been alright. Stirling, though? She'd been a bully under it all, and this man made me think of her.

Funny, because Shepard's response was the complete opposite of the one she'd given on Noveria. There, she'd tried to make peace. In this situation, not so much.

"I'll relinquish one bullet. Where do you want it?" She was laughing quietly as she said it, but it was very plain she was serious, mostly by the gun in her hand. Grunt and I followed suit, and there was a moment's silence, only broken when a new voice joined the conversation. The door opened behind the group, revealing a turian with an air of authority about him. He was barefaced, and if that weren't enough to set me on edge, something about his voice added to my unease when he spoke.

"Everyone stand down. Commander, I'm Warden Kuril, and this is _my_ ship. Your weapons will be returned on your way out. You _must_ realize this is just a standard procedure." The condescending tone he used on Shepard was _not_ the way to get her to capitulate to his demands. It was the way to get a bullet in your backside while she laughed at you.

"It's _my_ standard procedure to keep my gun." Kuril narrowed his eyes, and Shepard mirrored him, gazes matched. I almost laughed, watching them, somewhat taken aback by the Commander's new tactic. If she had taken that stance with Sparatus a long time ago, they probably would have gotten along so much better.

In turian society, established place within the group is one of the first things that comes into play with any new acquaintance. Every act, every conversation, was based around where you stood within that hierarchy. Usually it was easy to determine, due to rank structures within the military. Even most civilian organizations that were turian run usually made one's 'rank' eminently clear, in order to avoid pissing contests at the lower levels. Not that it ever bothered me. Part of why I hated, and had left, C-Sec was that my skills gave me an alpha personality arrogance in a beta working position.

So to see Shepard exhibiting signs of dominance, taking something that I could only credit having been learned from me, and using them on another turian? It was strange. I had always been worried about influencing her in a way that would mar her reputation. But for some reason, I found myself strangely amused by the whole situation. Especially when Kuril backed down first.

"Let them proceed. Our facility is more than secure enough to handle three armed guests." His tone was dismissive, but I knew better. He had just bowed to a human, and that was sure to grate. "We're bringing Jack out of Cryo. As soon as the funds clear, you can be on your way. If you'll follow me to the outprocessing for the pickup, Commander."

Reluctantly, she holstered her weapon, stating, "Let's go."

The other Suns parted as we moved through, and I was aware of an almost tangible tension in the air. _They're waiting for something... but what?_ I let out a small sigh of relief as the door closed behind us.

 _Something is wrong here. Why hasn't Shep picked up on it?_ It was obvious she was uneasy about the situation, but she said nothing as Kuril proudly rambled on about his creation.

"Cellblock 2," he gestured grandly outward as we walked, the expanse of cells a grey wall outside the windows, "As you can see, we keep tight control over the population. Each prisoner's cell is a self-contained modular unit. I've blown a few out the airlocks as an example. The ship is made up of 30 cell blocks identical to this one- we house _thousands_ of criminals. We can put the whole place on lockdown at a moments notice. Nothing goes wrong here."

_Nothing? You haven't met the human deity named Murphy, have you?_

"Somehow, this doesn't seem like the kind of thing the Blue Suns would dirty their oh-so-clean hands with. So how did you end up running this ship?" She was taking jabs at his honor for working with the mercenaries, and at the Suns for their practices, without making it seem like she was. A fact that the Warden didn't catch, or didn't care to challenge.

"I was in Law Enforcement on Palaven, and got sick of seeing criminals escape out into the galaxy to carry on with their crimes. Bounty hunters aren't dependable. Eventually, I hit upon this idea. Keep the criminals in space and the galaxy is a safer place."

"Hmm, sound like the philosophy of another turian I know. Care to comment, Garrus?" She grinned at me.

I crossed my arms, shooting her a look that plainly stated, _You just_ wait _till we hit the mat later._ "So, you think all this is necessary?" I asked, ignoring her as she giggled at my response, which thoroughly confused our host since no words had actually been spoken, "The expense doesn't make you balk?"

"Everyday I see the worst sapient life has to offer. Governments are soft, unwilling to make the hard choices. Someone had to stand up and make the galaxy safe." He stopped for a second, looking out over his creation, before charging on, "We cut corners governments can't. And each prisoner brings in a fee from his home-world. These individuals are violent, and their home planets pay well to keep them here. Especially once we explain that we can't maintain the prisoner without their help. A lack of financing means we'd be forced to release him back onto his home-world. At an unspecified place and time." There was a malicious glee to that last one that even our newest addition couldn't miss.

"You scare the home-worlds with the prisoners?" Grunt asked, seeming impressed.

A metallic clank echoed through the small hallway, the result of Shep's armored boot coming down on the baby krogan's. Grunt just looked at her like she was crazy, obviously feeling no pain.

" _Don't_ encourage him! I'm having a hard enough time convincing Garrus not to put in an application right now _without_ your help."

The Warden seemed unnerved by the back and forth, and by the somewhat childish display by what was supposed to be one of humanity's toughest women. Instead of commenting, he opted to stick to the subject, "You don't have to agree with my methods, but don't question my motives. These are despicable people. And I'm keeping them locked up." I remembered with a snort how hard I had found her personality to read at first glance, as well. She could, and did, go from happy to murderous in less time than it took me to pop a heatsink; which also made it hard to gauge her response until to you knew her better.

"Yeah, yeah, moving on," you could tell she was tiring of the banter, since Kuril wasn't playing, "What can you tell me about Jack?"

"Cerberus hasn't told you? Jack is the meanest handful of violence and hate I've ever encountered. Dangerous, crazy, and very powerful."

"People say those three about me, too. Huh. Think I might like this one," she ran a gloved hand through her hair almost absently, sighing, "Well, if we're going to do this, let's just get on with it."

Nodding, the Warden started walking again, our trio not far behind. Our young companion, unused to Shepard's way of doing things or with working as part of a team, ran a hand nervously over his shotgun. _A 'pure' krogan getting battle jitters. Now there's a new one for you._ He saw me looking and stopped his hand self-consciously, speaking to fill the silence, "I bet people try pretty hard to get out."

"We're in space. They have nowhere to go and they know it." Now that we were back on his favorite topic of how great he was, Kuril's voice regained its confident edge. "But still, we exercise extreme caution. These are dangerous individuals. We have many ways to control the population." He waved out the window, where two prisoners were being pulled apart by some kind of stasis energy. It was then that I pinpointed what about him set me on edge.

 _His mannerisms, his features, even his_ voice _remind me distinctly of Saren. No wonder I don't trust the_ ben'jee.

"I'm going to confirm that the funds from Cerberus cleared," the asshole in question went on, "Outprocessing is straight down this hallway. Just keep going past the interrogation room and the supermax wing." He started to walk away, only to call ominously over one shoulder, "I'll catch up with _you_ later, Shepard."

As he moved away, all hint of playfulness fell from Teandra's face as it left Kuril's sight, the redhead turning to watch his back as he walked away. Her playfulness, in this case, had been an act to disarm him. Yet she still didn't comment; still seemed unsure of her instincts. _No way we're both wrong. This is a trap, though I'm not sure to what purpose. Now, how to let her know she's not imagining it..._ then it hit me.

"Hey little Spectre, out of curiosity, _did you see us fight?_ " I placed a slight emphasis on the last phrase to get her attention, trying to gauge whether I had interpreted her body language correctly. She looked confused for a minute, brow scrunching up.

_C'mon, Shep, you're the one who made me watch the damn vid..._

Comprehension dawned on her face as she interpreted my message. She nodded, smiling slightly as she gave the make-shift countersign, "No." She considered for a second, head tilted, before continuing, "did you know him?" Translated: _why don't_ you _trust him?_

I thought for a minute, scanning my memory of the show that we were using before I dredged a response up, "Nah, he's just a _sad little king of a sad little hill."_ I couldn't quite get the accent right, strange as it was to my tongue, but she got the message without me needing to clarify. The character the phrase had originally been said about was a thief and a deceiver, much like I suspected Kuril was.

We came around the corner, Grunt looking at us in utter confusion, quite a feat for a krogan. "What are you talking about?" Teandra didn't answer, her mirth falling away as a steady thumping reached my ears. The source was a prison cell, glass paneling allowing us to watch as a non-stop beating ensued. The Commander moved up next to the guard.

"You don't even get good information that way. After a point, victims admit to anything to make the pain stop." I said.

Shepard turned away long enough to raise an eyebrow at me. When I didn't respond, she raised the other one. "I thought your favorite way of interviewing ended with the suspect, how did you say, 'bleeding profusely?'"

 _Damn._ I'd forgotten I'd told her that little detail. _Probably shouldn't share the full story on how I'd handled Garm then, either_ , I thought sardonically. She turned back when I didn't reply to her accusation.

The turian next to her, obviously disgruntled by the audience, snapped, "Is there something I can do for you?"

She remained silent for a minute, testing, before replying with her arms crossed, "There's no excuse for beating a prisoner who can't fight back."

"This is a massage compared to what his victims went through," he responded, a tad defensively.

"This degrades you as much as him." _There_ was the politician, trying to reason with him. I'd been waiting for her to make an appearance. Difference was, much to my satisfaction, this time it didn't work.

"We have orders." He said, again defensive, without even a hint of backing down to his stance or his tone.

"You're not important enough to make your own decisions?" she taunted, adjusting her own posture as she drew the turian's helmeted gaze to her.

It was only then, at that moment, that I truly realized what our friendship had done for her. Had done _to_ her. _She's_ always _been able to manipulate the people around her, some species better than others. Spending time around me has taught her how push_ turian _buttons, now. I'm not sure if I should be_ proud _or_ worried _about that._

Thankfully, the soldier didn't realize the tactic for what it was, sighing as he said, "I admit, I sometimes get tired of this..." He trailed off, continuing as if to himself, "Does this really get us anything useful?"

"Stop this. For your own sake." Yep, I was right. She was handing him the alpha card, one I could almost bet he would take as a subordinate in an undefined rank structure. _Damn, she's good. Maybe_ too _good._

"Yeah. You're right," he turned his head back to the cell, "Call it off. At least for now."

With Shepard trying, and failing, not to smirk, we resumed our movements as the sounds of the abuse ceased behind us.

"Well, don't you seem pleased with yourself," I commented, her expression making it clear that all those manipulation tactics had been intentional.

"Damn straight," she said, eyes still warily forward as she spoke, "You know me, Garrus. Being able to talk someone into my point-of-view versus shooting them _always_ makes my day."

We passed a hallway on the right, marked "Supermax" in bold letters, before the door in front of us opened to reveal rows of work desks and a single employee in a white lab coat, tapping away at a work terminal. He pointed to the doorway at the back of the conspicuously empty room.

"Through there." The man said absently, not even bothering to look up. Shepard nodded her silent thanks before glancing at me, eyebrow raised. I matched her expression and nodded in turn as we approached the door.

As it was, the only person surprised when it opened to reveal one of Kuril's "self-contained units" was Grunt.

"My apologies, Shepard," the warden's voice came over the loudspeaker, "you're more valuable as a prisoner than a customer. Drop your weapons and proceed into the open cell. You will not be harmed."

Tapping a finger on her chin, Teandra asked after a moment's thought, "How, exactly, do I drop a krogan?" When there was no response, she sighed, looking up in the general direction of the speaker. "Maybe we can talk about this..."

"Activate systems!" Kuril yelled without hesitation, interrupting her.

"Or _not..."_

We drew our weapons, immediately moving forward to cover at the nearest desk, with her barking instructions at our new guy all the while.

"Grunt, either move your ass up or switch to your heavy assault rifle! That shotgun does _not_ have the range for this distance." She checked the safety on her Mantis, commenting, "So much for that job offer, huh?"

"Or this is one hell of a work place hazing." As the first target came through the door, Kuril yelling about reinforcing outprocessing, the mechanical varren that entered the door exploded when four shots hit it, one from the Mantis and three from the Incisor.

"Nice shot group. So Vakarian, wanna play?"

"I'm not sure now is the most appropriate time to... wait, you meant a sniper battle," she laughed, head tilted at the playfulness of the statement, "I thought you'd _never_ ask, Shepard. Called targets?"

"You bet your ass. You first."

I chuckled, moving forward to the next set of desks as a new collection of mechs hit the door. Quickly, I scanned my eyepiece, noting there were four signatures.

" _Far left!_ " I called, firing almost as I spoke. Still, the Mantis hit first.

" _Far right_!" She countered before the first body even hit the ground, beating me by a millisecond.

" _Right._ " This time, I hit first, a muffled curse her only response before we both fired at the last target, only to be beaten by Grunt.

"Two to one, Vakarian."

"Not over yet, Shepard."

Rifles at the ready, we moved up as Grunt stated, "We need to get Jack out of Cryo."

"Yeah, yeah. Supermax is that way." She pointed, only catching sight of the next wave of blue armored soldiers, "Ooh, look Garrus. Some more of your new co-workers want to play." A new group was moving down the indicated hallway. They didn't last much longer than the first.

We reached the doorway, and Shep already had her omnitool fired up before she realized it was unlocked. I snorted at her, earning a glare as it opened. Immediately, the door revealed an unarmored human brandishing a pistol. Her cannon sprung her hand of its own accord. She took a step forward, extended her arm and fired a single shot.

"Anybody else wanna negotiate?" we said in unison, laughing at both our mirrored responses and the look of confusion on our krogan counterpart's face once again. We approached the console, Teandra saying, "Now I _know_ I've been watching too many movies. All I can think is that you're _never_ supposed to press the big red button." She glanced my way, "That was thirteen, by the way."

"Twelve," I growled, "he doesn't count."

"Why not? It _was_ a kill shot." I didn't have a good answer for that, other than the childish response that is put her in the lead by one. _Damn_.

"That's going to open every door on the cell block." Grunt seemed almost gleeful at the prospect, though because of the countless people he could shoot or the carnage in general was anyone's guess. Shepard shot me a look.

"I don't like it, but it's not like we have a choice," I shrugged, "It's the only way to get Jack out of Cryo."

"I'm doing it. Be ready." Her small hand pressed the button in slow motion. I'm not sure what I expected to emerge from the chamber in front of us. With the way Cerberus and Kuril had gone on I would almost have expected the human biotic to be built like a krogan and angry as one, too. As the cryo vents hissed and the machinery began to pull apart, however...

"That's Jack?" Shepard asked in disbelief, and I couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. It was a woman, the least astounding of my observations. She was also bald, covered over every inch of skin by dark tattoos, and was bound wrist, ankle, and throat by inch thick metal bands.

 _Well,_ _ **someone**_ _thought she was dangerous,_ I thought dryly.

" _What_ is it with the women I'm recruiting these days?" Shepard said in exasperation, gesturing wildly at the glass, "Don't _any_ of them actually wear clothes?

"I don't know. Looks kinda like that outfit you wore after the Battle of the Citadel."

Without even looking away from the still hissing cryo chamber and the girl it contained, she punched me in the arm. "That outfit was classy, _ben'jee_. And you sure as hell didn't seem to have a problem with it then."

"I meant _after_ we got upstairs," I said with a raised eye ridge, expecting to catch her off guard.

She turned to me with face innocent and eyes absolutely sinful, "So did I."

Grunt snorted, covering his amusement when her gaze turned sour as it focused on him by saying, "Jack is small."

Fortunately for him, a gigantic crash drew all our eyes back to cryo. Jack was awake. And pissed, if the twisted mess that remained of her prison was any indication. Once free, she drew biotic power to her like static draws lint, forcing it back out in an explosion of blue that left Shepard and I _both_ openmouthed. A wave of mech parts was soon cresting the surging energy, pieces flying everywhere as the power dissipated. The girl wasn't far behind the fading blast, another screech of metal signalling her exit.

"Did she just...?" Shepard trailed off.

"Yeah. She did."

"Oh, I wanna see this!" The krogan's heavy footsteps were already moving towards the door marked Cryogenic Containment Cell. "Let's go! Move! I wanna see how long she lasts!"

We shared another glance as I started laughing, "Aw, look. Only three days old and our baby boy has his first crush."

"We really should adopt an asari next time. Or a drell, I hear they're complacent."

We moved past the debris of the YMIR mechs that had been disintegrated by Jack's biotic show, finally dodging through a hole in the wall that looked like it decided to challenge the Arc Projector to a duel. We moved carefully under the arch of torn metal, the darkness enveloping us as we trotted down what seemed to be a maintenance corridor.

"This girl is a force of nature," Shepard said wryly, speaking louder than usual to be heard over Kuril's continual instructions, "She's like a dark Jedi on crack."

"And what, exactly, is a Jedi?" I asked as we reached the end of the darkened hallway we'd been spilled into, dodging more pieces of fallen mechs as we passed in our pursuit of Grunt.

" _Riza_! I keep forgetting _Star Wars_ never made the list. We're going to have to fix that, but it's hard to find the original nowadays," she braced herself by the next hole in the wall, bathed in a red glow from the room beyond, "I'll have Joker look for me. He's the king of illegal sites." I posted up on the opposite side, both of us taking a moment to check our ammo and catch our breath. I looked at her, she nodded, and we both entered the next room with rifles ready. Grunt was already in front of us.

Immediately, my gaze locked onto the mechanical arm that moved the prisoner's units around. A VI announcement was informing us that sectors seven, nine, and eleven had lost life support, but that became peripheral as we watched the equipment above us crumple to the floor, blocking our way. As it fell, I also became aware of the glass hallway above it, the one we had been walking through so soon before. There was a battle going on there, the former prisoners trying to attack their Blue Suns guards. It made me happy on some level, considering the abuse we'd witnessed, but on another level I was irritated at them getting away. The conflicting emotions threw me slightly off balance. _Shows you what kind of people these prisoners are. I don't agree with everything they do here, but it does seem to be in the galaxy's best interests._

Another explosion caused the station to shake beneath us. "This girl is powerful, but she lacks... subtlety."

"Again, with the observational skill. Does Papa Vakarian have any clue what a smart boy you are?"

"I refuse to even respond to that, Shepard. Though I _would_ strongly suggest you never call him that within earshot."

"Ooh, I think I hit a nerve..."

" _Lethal force is authorized, but don't kill Jack. Restore order!"_ Kuril's voice held a note of panic this time that the static of the loudspeaker couldn't completely cover.

"And now, I think, we can officially say he's met the battlefield Spirit of Murphy," I said.

"Um, Garrus," she had stopped, pointing at the far side of the room, "stop talking and start shooting. Big mech ahead."

We posted up behind the barrier on the bridge we were on, allowing Grunt to pick off the little guys that got within range. The steady bang of his shotgun was reassuring as we both focused on the giant mech that had entered the newest arena, hoping the krogan had us covered.

"Since you named him, I take it that's your choice of targets." I took the first shot, both of us pulling the trigger almost nonstop at the giant machine as it spewed almost continual fire our way.

Her cry of, "My shields are down" was interrupted by me calling, "Drop," as the laser beam of lead moved back her way. She ducked, and I popped up and fired another round, causing the mech to explode with a last shot.

"Fourteen."

"Um, your last number was twelve. 'That still only counts as one.'"

" _No_. If you get to count your 'negotiations,' then I get double points for this one. And _no_ more movie quotes. It's an unfair distraction."

We continued to move forward, still bickering as we went, Grunt silently focused on covering our backs.

" _Far left_! I haven't even _begun_ to be distracting. But if you want, I could step up my efforts."

"OK," I said, making sure she caught the warning in my voice, "but turnabout is - _Far left_ \- fair play."

"Fine, never mind then! _Far right_!" laughter was coupled with a metallic clank as another armored merc fell. "Sixteen to fifteen now," she said with a smirk, loading a new clip as we crouched behind our newest barrier. A battle cry to our right ripped our attention that way, a human charging Grunt with assault rifle on full auto. The krogan didn't even notice, attention on the centurion he was pounding round after round at. Instinctively, I caught Shepard's Mantis as she dropped it, allowing her to send a fireball towards the rat-tat-tat of the rifle. The noise immediately stopped, and I tossed the sniper rifle back into her now open hands.

"You know what? I'm getting you one of those kiwashii visors next time we hit the Omega markets." I popped the heatsink of the Incisor in turn, taking advantage of the lull caused by her tech display. As soon as I'd reloaded, our competition resumed.

" _Batarian, far right_. Why would I need one of those?"

"You saying you're not envious of my impeccable sense of - _far right_ \- fashion?" I quipped. Her disbelieving sigh was clearly audible over all the din.

"Do I look like - _far left -_ your life-sized doll?" The last enemy fell as she finished speaking, and without hesitation our trio moved forward to collect ammo, still buried in our verbal ping-pong match.

"That sounded _suspiciously_ like a movie quote. I'm going to start docking you points."

"You are _no_ fun. And you didn't answer my question."

We both bent to reach for the last ammo clip, faces only inches apart as our hands both closed on it. She started at our close proximity, breath quickening in spite of our silence. We stopped for a minute, gazes locked, before simultaneously noticing Grunt's intense stare from the side, shotgun still at the ready as he watched us. She snatched the clip from me as we rushed to stand back upright.

"You talk too much Shepard. Like the tank. But you weren't kidding about having a strong clan, and one led by such a strongly mated pair."

"Oh goddess, not another one," she said, throwing back her head for a minute and taking a deep breath and letting it out. Then she looked back at me, "Garrus, I'm starting to think we should just screw each other and get it over with. You know, just to shut everyone the hell up."

 _Wow, that's the second greatest line I've ever heard, Shepard,_ I thought sarcastically, _Comes right after the, 'Nice boots. Wanna fuck?' line that guy used on Janie Sussman at that Citadel party._

Still, I chuckled dryly, responding, "I don't know. I kinda like being able to tell everyone their assumptions are _just_ as full of _verna_ as they are." _Well, and I don't think I'm willing to settle for a pity fuck, but thanks anyway._

She just rolled her eyes, and we continued forward, still absently collecting ammo as we went. Going back to thinking about her original question regarding the visor, I said, "Speaking of linking things..." she rolled her eyes again as she caught my wording, "that's why we need to get you the visor. Then it would sync with mine and record the kill-counts for us."

"Don't you trust me?" she asked while sporting a ridiculously overacted pout, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. This coquettish attempt at innocence was _probably_ sabotaged before she started, however, considering we were currently surrounded by the carnage wrought by our little trio. Problem was that the image of the she-devil surrounded by mayhem was appealing in a way that her more overt attempts at flirtations weren't, since adventurous girls had _always_ been my weakness.  _B_ _y the damn spirits, I am in trouble..._

Still, not to be baited, I made myself ignore her as I scoffed, "Not to cheat? Don't insult my intelligence. You always find a way to put the odds back in your favor when you're losing."

Our feet had taken us forward into another room as we spoke, once again forcing us to listen to the self-serving drivel of the warden. Worse still, we had that _ben'jee'_ s traitorous face to go with the voice.

"You're valuable, Shepard. I could've sold you and lived like a king. But you're too much trouble. At least I can recapture Jack."

"Oh please, Norton," I narrowed my eyes at the name she addressed him with as our trio posted up to a new barrier, rifles ready and awaiting Shepard's order to attack, "You're a two bit slave trader and I don't have time for it."

"Negative one, little Spectre," I chuckled as she finished. She rolled her eyes with exaggeration, then stuck out her tongue at me. But she also didn't argue the point.

"I do the hard things civil governments are unwilling to, Shepard! This is for the good of the galaxy."

"Whatever you say, asshole... Grunt, far left stasis. Garrus, center. I'll take right." We split to destroy our intended targets, the processing units of the stasis field generators we had seen used to separate the prisoners earlier. Now, they were acting as additional protection field for our barefaced turian. A few random mercs aside, it wasn't long before the shield fell with a tangible lessening of the electricity in the air. Kuril was dead almost immediately afterwards as three shots from the Mantis rang out: two to drop his shields, and one stop his speeches for good.

"You _always_ take right," I muttered, disgruntled at missing our last shot. "Final count?"

"Twenty-nine." An explosion rocked the station somewhere not too far away, most likely from the destruction that had been created by our potential crew member.

 _Damn._ "Twenty-eight. Next time, _I_ get to take out the big, creepy, lecture-giving badguy and _you_ can babysit the krogan."

Said krogan was not amused. "This ship is not very stable right now. We should leave." Exchanging a glance, the girl and I both nodded, scooping up a few more clips as we made for the exit. Hopefully we'd find Jack along the path of carnage that was leading us there.

As we came back through the doorway we'd first entered the station through, our wish was granted. Jack was waiting for us, in the midst of a full blown temper tantrum to rival a youngling of _any_ species. And just like a child, it caused her to overlook the obvious, in this case a merc coming up behind her with murder intent in his movements.

Not that he ever got the chance, since a giant hole from a pistol makes that difficult. Especially when that pistol is Shepard's hand-cannon.

"What the hell do you want?" the fiery girl set off alarm bells in my head, reminding me more forcefully of many of my interrogations than I would have wished. Grunt and I fanned out behind Teandra as she prepared to confront the girl, sharing a momentary glance that plainly stated how wary we _both_ were.

Shepard, however, treated it like business as usual. "The girl who just saved your ass. That's who."

Jack scoffed at that. "He was already dead, he just didn't know it yet." She shrugged nonchalantly, but her nervous pacing as she repeated her earlier statement negated her falsely calm demeanor, "Now, _what the hell_ _do you want_?"

As if sensing the girls short temper, Shepard got to the point, "You're in a bad situation and I'm here to get you out of it." She holstered her pistol, holding her hands out in a non-threatening way. Not that she couldn't have it back out just as quick if Jack so much as twitched. Me? I'm not that quick. I kept _my_ rifle out.

"You sound like a pussy," Jack rolled her eyes, "I'm not going with you. You're Cerberus."

Teandra stiffened but didn't correct her assumptions, narrowing her eyes, "I'm offering to be your friend. You don't want to be my enemy."

I snorted, "Yeah. They have a way of dying." Usually, I make it a habit of _not_ speaking during these little negotiations of the Commander's, having learned my lesson on Noveria. I had wondered about her extreme reaction that first and only time I'd done it. In retrospect, I now knew that manipulation was like creating a trance in the subject, and outside influence tended to break that spell. Still, in this case I felt justified, since only an idiot would stay on an exploding space station.

Jack stopped pacing, facing us more fully. "You show up in a Cerberus frigate to take me away somewhere. You think I'm stupid?" Her voice held that same venom when she said the organizations name as it had the first time. Something none of us could overlook.

"You want me to answer that?" Shepard crossed her arms, not even flinching at the biotic's hate filled gaze, "This ship is going down in flames. We can get you to safety, and we're _asking_ for your help." She was backing down some, negotiating when she usually would be arguing, which didn't mesh with her usual tactics. _Something about this girl interests her... maybe the sisterhood of Cerberus hatred_? _Seems to be working, anyway._

"Just shoot her and patch her up on the ship." The krogan's rough voice permeated the silence, drawing the unstable girl's eyes to him, her shoulders going back as she prepped her biotics.

"I'd like to see you try," she sneered. Grunt brought up his shotgun menacingly in response.

I couldn't help but laugh, since the image was so reminiscent of every adolescent fight I'd ever witnessed. In the family or out of it. "Ah, young love..." I said with a shake of my head.

Teandra grinned at my words, mirroring the sentiment as she commented, "Now, now, kids. Can we do this _after_ we watch this station explode? Preferably from _far_ away?" The pair stopped and looked at her, both apparently pissed at her degrading tone but unsure of how to respond. Another far off explosion broke up the potential problem, reminding everyone to get back down to business.

"Look, you want me to come with you? Make it worth my while," Jack's voice held the seductive lilt of someone used to getting her way, one way or another. A tone Teandra didn't miss when she retorted.

"I don't do chicks anymore. Sorry." Grunt and I gave a chuckle, quickly muffled, but not quickly enough to keep Jack from noticing. Blue started hazing off of her almost like waves of heat as she spluttered angrily for a moment, looking for an appropriately hateful response and apparently finding none. Finally, the redhead took pity on her, Teandra's serious demeanor breaking as she failed to uphold her own joke.

"Calm down," she laughed, "I'll make you a deal. You join my team and I'll do what I can for you. I always take care of my own."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," _she's almost as cynical as another girl I know_ , I thought sardonically as Jack continued speaking, "I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases. I want to look at those files. See what Cerberus has got on me. You want me on your team, let me go through those databases."

Shepard glanced at me, smile completely evil, "It'll thoroughly piss Miranda off. I love it." She shrugged as she looked back, "I'll give you full access. Just let me know what you find."

The biotic seemed to consider this a moment, as if still unsure of whether or not to believe the Commander. Finally she said, "You'd better be straight up with me."

The woman's _tattoos_ almost seemed to pulse as her anger rose again, probably the effect of the biotic energy she was bleeding off. _Damn, she is one powerful bitch. I think Jack might even give_ Teandra _a run for her money if it came to blows._

My partner seemed to come to the same conclusion, because the joking expression was gone as she nodded.

"So why the hell are we standing here?" Jack said, business concluded, "Let's get out of here."

Again, Shepard nodded. "Move out!" An order the four of us didn't need any urging to follow with Kuril's dream crashing and burning behind us.

* * *

#####

* * *

"You know, I thought it might be nice to come back here and see how the Citadel has changed," Garrus commented as we waited for a shuttle to see Anderson, almost growling in his frustration, "But it's just like it always was. Same dirty streets; same unrepentant scavengers; same revolving door prisons. Nothing's changed."

"Oh, come on. Be fair. Bailey was _completely_ different from anything the old C-Sec would have contained. You might even have been his role model." The line in front of us was moving _way_ too slowly for my tastes, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Or much else I could do to entertain myself, at the moment. So I was participating in my favorite past-time: screwing with Garrus. Much to our newest additions silent amusement. The thief wasn't much of a talker once she'd said her piece; at least, not yet.

"No, if _I_ was the role-model, the phrase 'hard-copy paperwork' would never have left his mouth. Still, he did you a bit of a favor, so I'll forgive him for the slip."

"Yeah, well, _I_ think you're just still cranky you lost the match this morning," I said with a smirk.

"I didn't lose," he retorted, deadpan, with mandibles pinching in irritation, "you cheated. _Again_."

"It took you ten minutes to get me pinned down, and then you refused to take the kill tap. I had to think of _something_ creative to get you off. Call it battlefield ingenuity."

He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes, but his expression was one of bemusement. "Dragging your nails across my waist to distract me is _not_ a valid tactic. It's _cheating_. You're _really_ not going to like it when I start returning the favor."

"Try me..." I retorted.

A muffled chuckle from our newest companion caught our attention. "I'd heard about you two, but wasn't sure I believed the rumors. You are quite the pair, aren't you?" Kasumi said, finally commenting on our bickering.

"Great..." I said with a roll of my eyes, "that's two for two, Garrus. My offer to just get it over with still stands," I winked in his direction. He just rolled his eyes in turn and sighed in an almost wistful manner, not even rising to the bait.

I wasn't even sure _why_ I was messing with him, honestly, but his obliviousness to my physical discomfort was annoying on too many levels to let it go.

The last group in front of us entered the next vehicle that arrived, and we moved up to wait our turn. Kasumi, however, shot me a very intuitive look. _I think I like this girl: thief_ and _woman. It's like looking in a mirror. Definitely need to catch her and chat when we get back shipboard._

I was spared any further contemplation by the arrival of our transport. One that had apparently missed the upgrades that most had gotten after the Reaper attack, because it was smaller than any of the previous ones that had queued up while we were waiting. I stared at the confined space inside with trepidation, considering our armored trio.

" _Riza._ Another shuttle is going to take forever. Think we can fit?"

"We'll just squeeze in, Shepard," Kasumi said, "unless you're that worried about it?" She placed her hands on her hips as she spoke, and from what I could see of her face under her hood she was smiling enigmatically.

Garrus and I shared a two-second glance. Other than on the sparring mat, we'd both been kind of careful to stay out of touching range since that day on the elevator. The tug-and-pull of our original spark had been growing more pronounced for days, and it seemed we'd come to an unspoken agreement to try to avoid exacerbating it until _both_ of us decided what the hell to do about it. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm game if you are, Shepard. The longer we're out here, the longer we leave the _Normandy_ at the mercy of Grunt, Jack, and Zaeed."

"Shuttle it is, then," I responded with finality, the image of what those three could get up to sufficiently terrifying me, "after you."

It only took about ten seconds with me crammed in next to him to realize it was a _much_ dumber idea than I had originally thought.

The sparring match I'd brought up? It was one of the first one's we'd had that had occurred without an audience since setting that ring up. With onlookers, it was easy to ignore the physical reactions we always had to each other. Without them? Our matches became almost animalistic in nature, much as they'd always been on the SR1. Except now our cybernetics gave us both an edge. So when he'd pinned me and I'd pulled that little trick with his waist, which in my defense had been _completely_ accidental, things had gotten... heated.

Much as they'd been before we hit Ilos. Prior to that day, the heat of our competitions had been easy to overlook, to pretend it didn't exist. His admissions on how I'd changed his life as he pinned me to the MAKO the prior night, both with his presence and his gaze, had exposed my self-deception for _exactly_ what it was. That revelation had almost sent me _running_ into Kaidan's arms to escape the turian's scrutiny. The sparring match that had followed my evening with Alenko, as the biotic nursed a migraine from my perfume, had been forever burned into my thoughts.

It had become one of the few good dreams I actually had, if I overlooked the implications of what the theme exposed long enough to let myself enjoy it. It always began much as our match had, the true events ending with me face down on the mat, Garrus pinning me down with his full body weight pressed against me in all the wrong ( _right_ ) places. Joker had interrupted that bout, but my imagination had _no_ trouble filling in the blanks...

 _The carpet is rough against one cheek as warm breath comes across the other one. I feel his body heat, always slightly elevated compared to my own, permeate the thin cloth of the green sports bra and black cotton capris I'm wearing quite easily. His strangely designed shirt and shorts aren't much more concealing, and his clearly visible plating is something I continually find myself fascinated by. What little actual exposure I've had to touching it is like hard, almost metallic armor. I feel his legs with their strange design mold with mine as he pins me fully, almost purring into my ear as he speaks, "Now what do I do with you,_ _ **my**_ _little Spectre?" Trickles of warmth fall across my neck, blow past my ear, and I find that's not the only warmth my body is experiencing. Every strained or heated moment we've ever shared is embodied by that one phrase, enveloping me with an unstoppable force, and in that moment I_ want _him more than ever before. Need to feel him within me, craving him in an undeniable way that I can no longer fight._

_Somehow, impossibly, I manage to finally speak over the pounding of my heart, the singing of my boiling blood, "Whatever you wish..."_

_I only am able to whisper demurely, but I'm sure his enhanced hearing will pick it up. Still, the confirmation of his attraction in turn, evident by the erection I easily feel pressed against me through our combined outfits, is reassuring and inflames my desire to an entirely new level._

_He growls, one taloned hand gripping my hair to hold me steady, arousing me even more as he dominates me. Moving forward, he licks the pounding vein on my neck with a tongue that feels almost catlike, inducing a shiver as I lay helplessly underneath him._

" _I knew you'd give in eventually," he whispers back, moving his hips slightly as if to ensure I could feel his reaction to me. The heat of my own wetness spreads at the sound of his voice, and I move against him as much as I'm able to while so subdued. A tug on my hair is my only warning of his displeasure._

" _Oh, no. I don't think so, little girl. You've made me wait a long time..." He traces his tongue lightly along the edge of my ear, and I intake my breath harshly, unable to do anything more as I remain completely pinned, "I'm going to enjoy this however I want to." The idea of being at his mercy, of the things that concept implies, drive me over the edge of reality almost as surely as his talons. His hands have now moved between my legs, almost assuredly feeling my body's need for him._

_At he comes in contact with the moisture, he seems to lose all pretense of patience, ripping the obstructing material deftly. His other claw keeps me pinned by the neck as he lifts away for a moment, only to come flush with me once again with nothing between my ass and the hard length of him. Nothing to separate us from what we both are aching for with such intensity..._

" _Shepard..." I hear him say as he moves forward slightly, and I groan in expectation of our joining..._

" _Shepard_ ," Garrus said sardonically, lightly shaking my arm to get my attention more fully. "We're here, Shepard."

"Huh," I shook my head, groan still poised on my tongue as I looked around in confusion at confined shuttle and my companions once more. My head was still quite forcefully within the daydream, easily superimposing his expression of desire over his current one of worry as I looked at him, "Where's here?" I asked, rather eloquently. I could feel the heat radiating off of me as I blushed profusely, resisting the urge to hide my face in my hands.

He stared at me, his eye ridges bunching in a look of concerned. "Um... Anderson's office? Are you feeling okay?" He started to reach for my cheek. "You look flushed. Maybe we should put this off..."

"I'm _fine_." I snapped before he could touch me, worried if he did about what I might do, "just off in my own head-space for a second."

"You must _really_ be stressed about this meeting," he drew his hand back, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be as much of a smooth-talker as always, Shepard."

We exited the cab one by one. I caught sight of his face as I ducked through the doorway of the shuttle, expression a study in contemplation. Maybe I was overly suspicious, but I would almost _swear_ that man knew exactly where my thoughts had been treading on the ride over. Then he spoke again.

"Tell you what, little Spectre. Get us through this meeting without creating some intergalactic incident, and when we get back shipboard we'll figure out a way to alleviate some of that tension."

Kasumi laughed, causing Garrus to shoot her a confused look. You could almost see his brain reviewing what he'd just said, because he immediately looked uncomfortable as he muttered, " _Verna,_ that came out wrong."

 _I would almost swear_.


	6. The Old Frontier

_Where's your gavel? Your jury?_

_What's my offense this time?_

_You're not a judge but if you're gonna judge me_

_Well, sentence me to another life_

Paramore - "Ignorance"

 

**Chapter 5 - The Old Frontier**

"Kasumi, I think I'm going to lose my damn mind. I'm not even kidding."

The thief watched me with calm eyes as I paced her small room, seeming to be completely unperturbed by my irritation. She just sat there, arms around her knees, and let me vent my frustration. "That... that... _**ben'jee**_ used my own tactics against me! **Airquotes**? From a goddamn turian? _Gah!"_ I threw my hands up in the air, unable to fully express my feelings on the matter with mere words.

"At least your turian friend came to your defense, though."

"Only because he knew I was _royally_ pissed. But yeah, getting a reminder that we were all supposed to be adults from one of the least tactful people I know was a wake-up call. Didn't win him any points with Sparatus, though." I stopped my pacing for a minute, sighing heavily, "I just _knew_ that shit with getting Garrus into the Spectre service was going to bite me in the ass. I had good intentions, but maybe saying I was going to 'misplace' mission assignments _might_ not have been my brightest move ever."

"I see..." Kasumi said, still enveloped in an atmosphere of calm. Her eyes peered out from beneath the shadow of her hood, only the glint of the light off the orbs truly visible.

I resumed my pacing, and my arm waving, "By the Goddess, I'm glad Garrus is keeping Miranda off of my back right now. If she says one word to me, she's going right on my 'to murder' list with that spirits-blasted councilor. Trying to rescind my Spectre status? Calling me a traitor? Calling me _crazy_ and _easily manipulated?_ Like I didn't **know** he was throwing a turian insult at me. Fuck that."

The Councilors treating me like a red-headed stepchild? That hurt. I'd really thought we'd come to somewhat of an accord after the Battle of the Citadel. It wasn't like I was expecting Adara to adopt me as her long-lost kid or something, but you'd think they'd have more faith in my words and loyalties, all things considered. And instead of telling them to take their offer and shove it, like I wanted to, I'd lapped up their offer to give me back my Spectre resources and power like a half-parched pound puppy.

Goddess, that burned. But not as much as Anderson's rejection.

" _So, where's Lieutenant Alenko, David?" I ask, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. Jealous man that he had been, Kaidan wouldn't have stood by while the Council ripped me apart. He knew my hatred of Cerberus, knew my history. He would have had faith in me, believed that I was doing the right thing. Finding him, along with the rest of the crew from the SR1, is moving higher and higher on my list of priorities the more the rest of the galaxy chooses to turn their backs on me._

" _Staff_ _ **Commander**_ _Alenko is still with the Alliance, but he's working on a special mission. It's classified." The man who convinced me to give up my life of crime, to leave the streets, looks out over the balcony as he speaks, as if he can't even face me as he says these things. "I can't say any more. Not while you're working with Cerberus. I'm sorry." He finally turns to me, as if trying to soften the blow of his words. Flowery things that translate to one simple fact: he doesn't trust me._ That's number four, Teandra. _One father I'd never known, one who I'd watched die, one who'd become my tormentor, and now one who was turning his back on me._

 _Now I just needed one who tried to kill me, and I'd be set. Maybe I could get them memorialized in bronze. Put statues of them up on my mantel, even. Of course, that would require me to_ have _a mantel to set them on._

_Never mind. Too much effort for people who obviously didn't deserve it._

" _If that's how you need to play it, then fine." I pull back from the railing and it's gorgeous view, with it's false sense of peace, "but I_ don't _have to like it. Better go before someone thinks you're conspiring with the enemy." I start to walk away, shoulders back, determined not to let him know how upset I truly am. As I pass his desk, I hear him speak again._

" _Teandra..."_

" _What, David?" I stop, idly picking up a holo from his desk. I'm expecting his ex-wife, or perhaps Jason, anything to remind me of the good times I've spent with him and his family. Instead, I'm greeted by the tender eyes of my former lover._

" _Just do me a favor and be careful, Shepard," the human councilor says to my back. "You can't trust Cerberus."_

_Bile rises in my throat at the implication I'd do anything less, and I toss the holo back down in disgust._

" _Apparently they aren't the only ones I can't trust. Nice seeing you, Anderson." I spit his last name out like a curse, moving for the door once again, with Kasumi in tow. Garrus, however, is still standing there, head moving slowly between me and the man I'd just walked away from._

" _Go on, Shepard. Get a shuttle. I'll catch up in a second." I just nod, trusting my friend not to create some kind of diplomatic incident in my defense._

_Apparently, he's one of the few who even deserves my trust at all._

"Believe me, Shepard, I've known crazy." Thankfully, Kasumi interrupted the painful memory with what I was coming to recognize as her singular brand of humor. "And _you're_ not it." My pacing had led me to her bed, and the bookcase behind it. It was only then that I realized what lay on those shelves: Books. Honest to Goddess books. Accounts, both fictional and otherwise, put to paper and bound in wood and leather. In awe, I idly reached over to pick one out at random, chuckling slightly as I caught sight of the title.

"Don't laugh, I like those books. Romance novels, crime novels, even humorous works of historical fiction. The classics. There's something about the feel of actual paper in your hands... their musty smell... it's relaxing. Keiji used to find books for me while on the job. Some of these are more valuable than the objects he was hired to steal."

I simply looked at her, my anger dissipating. "I wasn't laughing at your collection, Kasumi. I was amazed. You have an _original_ Conan Doyle here. Where did you _get_ this?" I delicately opened the front cover of the well-cared-for book, the words, _The Adventure of the Empty House_ _,_ jumping off the page at me. _Two years dead and the crowds cry for_ your _return, Holmes. Too bad real life isn't so forgiving of it's heroes._

"Keiji found it for me. He knew I was a fan, though he was very apologetic he hadn't managed to find _The Beekeeper's Apprentice,_ instead." All bitterness and irritation left me at her words, to be replaced by pure excitement. Book still in hand, I jumped over the back of the couch, crossing my legs as I fell, bouncing incrementally from the force of my exuberance as I landed.

"Oh my god! You've read Laurie King? Are you kidding me? Isn't her Holmes to _die_ for?"

That sly smile, which was familiar for reasons I couldn't pinpoint, returned to her face as she said, "A fan, are you?"

"Again, are you kidding me?" I repeated my exclamation, my incredulousness at finding a literary compatriot growing as the conversation continued. "She was one of my favorites when I was a kid, right up there with Snyder and Tolkien. I love her writing style, and the way she gives her characters so much life is breathtaking. She took the ever-aloof Holmes and created a man we all felt we understood better, in spite of the fact he wasn't hers. I almost consider her work to be the canon of Sherlock's later years."

"I _do_ know what you mean, about the way she repaints a person's perceptions. It's amazing how the people you least expect to find investigators appealing are the one's who fall for them, don't you think?" Her words were innocent, considering the context of our conversation, but her intonation and enigmatic smirk were not. I raised an eyebrow questioningly. Still, she said nothing more, placing her chin easily on her drawn knees silently, the unspoken query hanging in the air between us.

 _Perceptive little thing, isn't she?_ With Kelly, I had been defensive. Had to be, honestly, or she'd have never left me the fuck alone about what she _thought_ she knew about me. But with Kasumi, and the way she was leaving the conversation in my hands, never pressuring me to open up... I found my mouth answering her before my mind had been consciously made up to do so.

"Yeah, okay. The damn detective's driving me crazy, alright? You happy?"

She just smiled, that little twitch of the corners of her mouth that reminded me of the proverbial cat who'd caught the canary. "You know, it's rather dangerous for a thief to allow herself to get close to someone who is so passionate about justice, Shepard."

"Don't I fucking _know_ it. I've been trying to drive him away for years, Kasumi."

She lifted her head, looking up from under the shadow of her hood. Ice blue eyes met my own. "You misunderstand me. With Keiji, I was able to be who I was because he accepted it. Even respected it. Can you say the same of Garrus? And are you willing to give up your life as you know it for him if the answer is no? Because when it comes to how _you_ see _him_ , you and I both know girls like us never let a mark escape. No matter if it's an item we are attempting to retrieve or a target we have our sights set on."

"Some hits are impossible, Kasumi." I looked up for a minute, trying to tame my thoughts. Most of the time, girl talk was _not_ something I willingly engaged in. But there was a patience about the woman next to me, a _knowing_ , that was disarming.

Normally, I didn't like being the one left in the dark; but somehow, Kasumi's very nature took the sting out of it. Damn her.

"Did you find Holmes and Russell to be a believable relationship?" she asked, finally. She was still watching me, and I found her unwavering gaze to be somewhat disconcerting. However, her unique way of asking a question was intriguing, to say the least.

"Of course it was."

"Why?"

I was somewhat confused by the change in subject, but answered anyway. "With them, there was a meeting of the minds. It was never a question of whether they were supposed to be with each other, even if romance was never meant to be. Sometimes, people think too much alike to..." My speech screeched to a halt as I realized what I had not just walked, but _dove_ into, head first.

I rolled my eyes, irritated at myself for not catching her roundabout comparison. "Wait, _I_ see what you're trying to get at. It's not the same, Kasumi."

"That things like age, place of birth, and even societal differences don't matter?" She sounded quite pleased with herself, and I couldn't help but laugh, even if the subject matter was rather heavy. She was right, in some ways, but she was also _very_ wrong.

"What you're missing, my fellow thief, is that some 'jobs' are too complicated to attempt. There are so many things separating the two of us, most of which are outside of our control." I sighed, running a hand through my hair before tucking both sides behind my ears. "Politicians on both sides of the racial line have made their opinions quietly known, as Udina saw fit to remind me today when he saw my companion. Once you add in Garrus' family, their political ties, and the parts _both_ his parents played in the Relay 314 Incident... well, we could never be together publicly. And he's too good a man to be hidden away like some closet boyfriend, either."

The Asian girl brought her chin up from her knees, tilting her head at me. "So, what you're saying Russell and Holmes had it easy, huh?"

"You have _no_ idea," I blurted out. I scowled then, not at her, but at myself, for allowing the thief to get yet _another_ answer out of me without my conscious consent. I wasn't angry at her, so much as impressed by her ability.

Okay, and maybe a teensy bit jealous, too. Not that I would ever admit such a thing aloud.

She smirked again, sitting up straighter as she began to speak.

"There are three things wrong with your theory about your relationship being impossible. One," she held up a finger, ticking off each point in her reasoning as she went, "you just said 'Relay 314,' and it's not the first time in our short acquaintance you've used either turian phrasing or words. He has a tendency to do the same, I've also noticed, incorporating human terms into his speech. Couples only do that with each other when there is a very strong connection.

"Two," a second finger joined the first as she crossed her own legs in mirror of my own position, "the noises you were making on the way to the Anderson's office while 'off in your own head-space' as you put it, implied at least a certain amount of, shall we say, attraction. Fortunately, I don't think your friend knew what he was witnessing, and _I_ sure won't be the one to enlighten him." She chuckled quietly as she leaned forward, no doubt _completely_ aware of how perception-shattering her words were; but she kept speaking anyway.

"And three? You seem to have put a lot of thought into all the obstacles between you and your detective. A lot of thought that could have been spent elsewhere if you hadn't been seriously considering the possibility of being a, how do turians say it, a 'mated pair' at some point."

I just sat there, speechless for eons as I considered her final words on the subject. "I... never realized that until you pointed out. _Riza..._ you've just officially become my Mirror of Erised, Kasumi."

I was saved, blessedly, from any further rambling by the sound of the door opening behind us.

* * *

#####

* * *

The scene I walked in on was one of the more potentially dangerous ones I had ever seen Teandra in. The area of the ship that the newest addition to our team had chosen to call home had been closed off prior to her recruitment (probably because of the bar that lay in the corner, considering Teandra's weakness to the stuff). The two pickpockets were sitting cross-legged across from one another on Kasumi's bed, and appeared to be heatedly discussing the merits of some book or another, if the volume in Shepard's hand and the red shade to her cheeks were any indication.

 _Maybe they should think about grabbing Grunt. I hear he's taken to the written word like a_ boska _to fodder._ I hadn't spoken overly much to the kid, since he tended to start every conversation with a variation of, "I hate you, turian, but I don't know why..." He'd learn, with time. And then have to get over it if he didn't want Teandra to kick his ass for species bashing.

"Shepard, here you are." The door closed behind me as I spoke. Kasumi, as if sensing the conversation may take a minute, waved me to the couch opposite their own. I sat, leaning back somewhat as I continued, "I take it you've decided _not_ to kill Miranda? I only ask because I think she'd like to come out of her cage... I mean, office... now."

The girls both looked up at me, Shepard rather guiltily, and I changed my estimation of what they were talking about. _I'm guessing Kasumi is being wrangled into reading some romance/adventure novel._ I snorted. _Maybe that'll get_ me _off the hook now._

Hey, a guy can hope, right?

"She'll live. Though, this begs the question, what the hell do we do now?" Shepard seemed to be in a better mood than I would have thought after that Council meeting, especially considering how ill she appeared as we'd entered the Councilor's office.

I still almost regretted staying to speak to Anderson, but he was a warrior, not a politician; he just didn't have a politician's tact. In spite of his words, it was obvious he was hurt by Teandra's abrupt departure. His eyes, while resigned, had shown his pain at driving her away much too clearly.

I hadn't even given him a chance to say a word, though, and _I_ had only said two things, "Give her time. I'll keep you informed as best I can." I wouldn't have even done _that_ , but... he'd shown me a great amount of compassion when he'd told me of Shepard's death all that time ago. I could never forget that small measure of kindness that preceded my father's hatred and subsequent disownment.

Anderson cared for her, but knew he had a job to do. Just like our girl did. It struck me then that Finch hadn't been the only one to leave his mark on her. _Talk about fathers and daughters being alike..._ I thought absently.

"Not that I think either of you need my input, but why is that even a question?" The thief had seemed a relatively quiet type, for the most part, and I was still amazed at how seamlessly she'd insinuated herself into the crew. Had I not known better (and having been present at their initial meeting, I could safely say that I did, in fact, know better), I would have said that it felt like Kasumi had always been a part of the team.

Normally, the idea of a known criminal, specifically one who was unabashedly proud of her chosen profession, being in close proximity to not only myself but people I cared about (or, in some cases, at least wanted to stay alive long enough to get this mission done and over with) would make me uneasy, at best. If there was one thing I knew about thieves, it was that the consequences of their actions had a tendency to catch innocent bystanders in the lurch, usually due to thoughtless placement of contraband in stupid hiding places. Of course, I was pretty sure most of the items she had openly displayed in her room were stolen property; so, naturally, that put me on edge. Only, it didn't grate on my instincts as much as it should have.

 _Teandra is making you soft for thieves, isn't she? I repeat, you're becoming a damn_ vor'net, _Vakarian._ As it was, I was more interested in _how_ Kasumi had managed to decorate her room in the short time between when we'd picked her up and when I'd walked in.

"What do you mean?" Shepard asked, turning so she faced somewhere between the two of us as she pulled me from my mental meandering.

"I mean that, regardless of the Council's lack of full support, the Collectors still have to be stopped. Isn't that the point of this whole endeavor?"

"Suck it up, and drive on. That's what you're saying?" I asked.

"Precisely."

"Well, as of right now, I'm out of dossiers," Shepard commented, "so it's just working on getting the crew meshed together and keeping morale up until further notice." She grinned wickedly, "By the way, I got the official approval from the turian Hierarchy a couple of days ago. The requisition order for the five _Warrior_ sets went out day before yesterday."

"And you're grinning like an idiot because...?"

"The Illusive Man sent me a note, wanting to know why I was wasting his resources again. I think I'm finally getting under that calm exterior."

I crossed my arms, rolling my eyes at her antics. "What are you, three years old?"

"It was either that, or track him down and kill him. I'm still up in the air on that one, though, if you want to give your input, Garrus." That mischievous gleam was back in her eye, and I was happy to see it, even if it was typically a prelude to something that would mortify me no end.

"I'm not even rising to that bait, Shepard, because _I_ don't feel like discussing Sidonis right now..." I flicked my eyes to our companion, making it clear I didn't want an audience. She nodded. I stood.

"Well, Jacob is supposed to be working on installing an upgraded scope on the Incisor for me. I promised I'd stop by and give it a once over. Enjoy your book discussions. I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on after spending two years _mostly_ dead _._ "

Kasumi chuckled slightly, and Shepard grinned. "Yeah, well, your continual 'I'm here if you need me' is _really_ starting to sound like ' _as you wish.'"_

 _And there it is. Not a great attempt at embarrassing me, but not terrible. I give it a 'six.'_ I ignored her, save another roll of my eyes.

Their conversation resumed as I exited the room, and I couldn't help but laugh. _Relationship or no relationship... I think that girl's on to you, Wesley._

I sat through the elevator ride with measured patience, hoping to pass easily through the CIC on my way to the armory. As the elevator door opened, though, I caught sight of the yeoman.

 _Damn it_.

I'd been avoiding her since that day in the mess hall, since she had taken it upon herself to try to analyze me. A fact Shepard found _quite_ amusing, might I add.

" _Zaeed sat through a session. Can't you hack it, Vakarian?"_

Carefully, I caught Crewman Matthews' eye, pointing towards Chambers emphatically. He grinned.

"Hey, Kelly, can you come here a second?" he called. "I need some advice on how to impress Sha'ira on my next furlough. Got any tips?"

She started walking towards him, considering before beginning, "Well, you see, asari are pretty easy to..." Kelly started speaking as she moved towards Matthews' work station.

I motioned that I owed him one, moving quickly to the door to the armory before the redhead noticed me and changed direction.

Entering the well-stocked weapons room was like coming home on some level. Ashley's much smaller station had been well kept, but Taylor was almost as obsessive in his cleanliness and organization of equipment. Being there did make Ashley's absence return to the forefront of my mind, but the jolt wasn't as sharp as it had once been.

"Hey Taylor, came to..." Before I could say anything more, he pointed to the table behind him, not even looking up from his console. Confused by the open animosity, which had always been below the surface but never overt, I approached the Incisor with trepidation.

The rifle, however, was in perfect condition. The new scope was much clearer, and the zoom much smoother, just as promised. "Excellent work. I've always been a fan of Ariake Technologies' equipment, but I didn't know they'd branched into rifle scopes now."

"Glad you like it." Again, the short answer. I'd always attributed his slight hostility to racial differences, considering his place within Cerberus. However, I now had a sneaking suspicion this new level had nothing to do with my species. Only one way to find out.

"Teandra mentioned you had a skill with this kind of thing..." Jacob stiffened at the use of the Commander's first name, and I had my answer.

 _By the damn Spirits, when did it become_ my _job to deal with this kind of thing?_ I sighed. _Well, might as well get it over with..._

"Alright, Taylor, we need to talk." I tried to make my voice non-confrontational, but I'm not sure I succeeded.

He turned to me, face hardening as he attempted to hide his emotions. "What do you want, Vakarian?"

"Apparently I'm just a _glutton_ for punishment..." I absently ran one hand along the Incisor, nervously beginning to disassemble it before I realized what I was doing, "since I always seem to be giving much needed, but unwanted, advice to Shepard's potential suitors."

A particularly tricky bolt gave me pause, and I hesitated before continuing. "Trust me on this, if nothing else, Jacob: She flirts with _everyone._ You are not her type by a long shot, even discounting your association with the organization that she considers to be her mortal enemy." I reassembled the weapon with finality, looking the man in the eyes in an attempt to convey my sincerity, the stock and barrel clicking together with a snap.

He glared at me, "You think I need girl advice from you, cuttlebone?" His whole body was tensed in either rage or irritation, though he was keeping the emotion in check rather well. I had to respect him for that.

I held up a hand to forestall any further insults, or anger, and plowed on. "I'm not saying that to chase you off so I can pursue her, Jacob. She made it clear a long time ago that we were nothing but partners. I'm telling you the truth as her friend." I sighed heavily, wondering again why I continued to do this kind of thing to myself. "I've known the woman for _years_ , Taylor. Teasing her comrades is like breathing to her, manipulation like flexing a muscle, especially when it's obvious she can bait the person she's targeting. And hell, if you're just looking to sleep with her, you might even get your wish if you play your cards right."

He lost his surly look at the last statement, replacing it with a puzzled expression. "So anything more..."

"Would never happen," I finished for him. "She doesn't get emotionally involved with her sexual partners. To put it bluntly, she's just not that into you." I holstered the rifle into the catch in my armor, watching as the dark-skinned man processed my words.

"Why _are_ you telling me this?" He seemed taken aback by the harshness of my statement, or maybe the subject matter, I wasn't sure which.

"Because I've been her friend a _very_ long time. I can tell you that she's a wonderful woman, an awesome warrior, and a dependable friend. She sees her crew as her family. She _really_ doesn't like it when they don't get along, especially over something silly like personal differences." I moved towards the door, saying over my shoulder, "Which leads me to the other thing," I stopped, turning back to look at him from the doorway.

"She can be a heartless bitch if you get on her bad side. Then, _everybody_ suffers. Do _not_ piss her off, Taylor, or we'll _all_ regret it."

* * *

Something about the arena we entered on Horizon, not long after we left that mechanic to his cowardice, set my nerves on edge. Our task was simple, though. Get the guns calibrated and online. Even if Shepard and I couldn't handle it (since I was pretty sure Jack wasn't even remotely technically inclined), we should be able to figure something out.

We took a single step forward, only to have the door slam shut behind us. A groaning sound reached our ears, more husks, and another voice, "Assuming direct control of this form..."

"Fuck! Won't that asshole _die_ already?" That had come from Jack, immediately followed by a shockwave sent in Harbinger's direction. Shepard and I ran for cover, taking either side of the nearest low barrier while our third ducked behind a crate to our right.

"Garrus, is it just me, or are these guys tougher than the geth ever were?" Bullets pinged around our heads, ricocheting off the top of the wall as we waited for a lull in the shooting.

"Way tougher," I answered, and started to pop up out of cover, only to drop as another round of fire began. "The challenge _is_ kind of nice, though..."

"Speak for yourself," she stated flatly, shuddering visibly. "I get the willies every time that _thing_ says my name. I don't like it."

"Then let's shut him up for good."

She grinned, checking her heatsink and safety reflexively as she said, "Vakarian, I like the way you think."

"Are you two going to actually _do_ something?" Jack yelled through the comm, sending another biotic blast towards the nearest Collector. "Or are you just gonna talk them to death?"

"Told you we should have brought the thief," I whispered sullenly.

"I heard that, you talking dinosaur. Care to see how many smartass comments you can get out of your fucking mouth before I pull your brain out through your ass?"

I could hear, and see, Teandra fighting to stifle a crow of laughter from her position across from me, but decided to ignore both women in favor of shooting the nearest Collector I could get into scope.

We concentrated our sniper rounds on Harbinger as Jack picked off husks and Collectors with a combination of biotics and shotgun rounds. Soon, the field cleared, and we approached the programming station with trepidation, collecting ammo as we went. Teandra pulled out her omnitool, fingers flying as she hacked the terminal only to come up against the very issues the rest of the colony had hit full force.

"Damn it, the software is corrupted. It's going to have to be repaired, and we don't have the time or the skill to fix this, Vakarian." She paused for a minute, then touched her comm. " _Normandy_ , do you copy?"

There was silence for a moment, and I wondered if the Collectors were still jamming communications in an attempt to isolate us. However, after a moment Joker's voice came through the speaker, "We're here. Signal's weak, Commander, but we got you." Hearing him while on a mission was always strange, since he tended to be almost _overly_ professional when dealing with Shepard while she was groundside, instead of cracking a joke every five seconds. No different than our unspoken agreement to use clan names only while in public, I guess, but it was still weird.

"EDI, can you get the colony's defense towers online?" She spoke to the AI as if she were a person, instead of routing her request through Joker. _Leave it to Shepard to include an AI in her policy about intolerance. Hope_ _ **that**_ _one doesn't come back to bite us in the ass._

EDI seemed to respond to her attitude, at least, as she replied, "Errors in the calibration software are easily rectified, but it will take time to bring the towers to full power. I recommend a defensive posture. I will not be able to mask the increased generator output."

"Great. We play piggie-in-the-middle while she sorts out the batteries," Jack scoffed, cocking the shotgun in annoyance as she did so.

"Any other words of advice, EDI?" Shepard's tone was jovial, despite the situation, not bothering to respond to the biotic.

"Only this, Shepard: I suggest you take cover. Enemy reinforcements are closing in."

"She's been hanging around Joker too much..." Shepard muttered. "I _swear_ she just used sarcasm on me." She scanned the area as she spoke, finally pointing to a walkway between two sealed buildings, "That area over there has good cover."

"Good vantage," I agreed. "We have coverage of almost the whole area."

"What do you think, Jack?" Silence. "Jack?" We both looked for her, spotting her already moving for the chosen defensive position.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Shepard grumbled as we made our way after her.

The next few minutes were a blur of gunfire, which, honestly, was pretty much our standard fare by now. Even when the scions showed up, a combination of Shepard's fireball-thing, Jack's shockwave, and my Incisor fire made short work of them. In the end, only a lone Collector remained on the central platform where the gun controls were.

"Garrus, did you get that last one? I'm out of sniper ammo." Shepard was crouched down behind the solid walkway rail, swapping her Mantis for the Cannon. I continued firing at the single opponent, though my shots were proving to be ineffective.

"I can't get a good angle. He's posted up behind that spirit's blasted barrier!"

There was a harsh exhalation as Jack fell, victim of the latest sporadic set of rounds that came our way. Shepard slapped some medigel on the wound of her unresponsive charge, cursing.

"Fuck this shit. Keep him busy, Garrus."

I watched through the scope as the shimmering, cloaked form of the Commander moved towards the shielded collector.

"Hurry the hell up, Shepard. Your cloak doesn't last all that long."

She rematerialized just in time to knock him from behind the shield, giving me the opportunity I needed to take the shot.

"HELL YEAH! Take _that_ asshole!" I heard her cry.

"Great. Now get moving, Shepard..." I trailed off as the groaning of more husks reached my ears, along with her muttered " _Riza..."_ , and I watched as the blue-hazed shells came at her from what seemed all directions. She fired non-stop as they closed in, not even focusing on their numbers in favor of eliminating the targets.

"Little Spectre, listen to me! There's too many of them. Stop shooting and get the hell _up_ here."

"They've got me cut off, Garrus! I'll have to defend from here. Just keep an eye on Jack, and cover me as best you can."

"You're fucking _surrounded_." I pulled the trigger once, sending a spray at the nearest husk, much too close to the redhead for my taste.

"Just _cover_ me, dammit," she yelled, firing the cannon almost nonstop as she combined it with her martial skills. I went to fire again, only to click dry. _**By the damn spirits...**_ I swapped for my Vindicator, but I _knew_ it wasn't accurate enough for what I needed to do. I would not willingly shoot at anything within ten feet of Teandra with that thing. Splash damage was still damage, and I wasn't going to risk it.

I quickly glanced at Jack's still prone form, debating leaving her. The decision was made for me by a harsh scream from Shepard's direction.

"Sorry Jack, but I've got my priorities." I checked the safety on the assault rifle as I ran, spurred on by the continuing battle in front of me. I was halfway across the small distance when more grunting came from behind me; the sound of five husks following me.

 _Where the hell did_ _ **they**_ _come from?_ I thought as I opened fire, still backing towards the center platform. More followed that wave, and I continued the rain of lead, only pausing to pop the heatsink and reload in one swift motion.

"Shepard, _where_ are you?" I said as I watched another fall, still unable to turn and unwilling to back up any further until I knew what I had behind me.

"Watching your ass, Vakarian," came the Commander's voice from my six, her gunfire evident now that I was listening for it. "How the hell do you think you survived this long?"

Relief washed over me as I said, "Where the hell are they all coming from?" There was a muffled, discordant scream as heat flew away from the area, most likely the result of Teandra throwing another one of her fireballs.

"I don't know, but how's your footwork?"

It took me a moment to work out what she meant, and I snorted, then schooled that response before saying, "Passable."

"Then let's dance for these fuckers."

Instantly, our armored backs came together, and time stopped for our enemies.

It _was_ almost like a dance, a flowing and weaving, as we seemed to instinctively know where the other would be at any given moment. We circled, firing all the while, in a close facsimile of several of our sparring matches; only this time, our _enemies_ were our quarry as we dodged through each others line of fire, no words needing to be spoken. As the seemingly unending hoards came to a stop, the two of us surrounded by a perimeter of fallen bodies, she whirled underneath my arm until our armored fronts came together. I started at the unexpected action, and she winked from a breath away, leaning forward to reach around me and fire a shot at the final remaining husk that had been coming at me from behind.

"Passable, huh? Whatever you say, Archangel." Then she whirled away from me, and I was left blinking stupidly at what had just occurred.

We both reloaded as we leaped over the fallen, heading for our downed comrade. No sooner had we gotten her back on her feet, still somewhat disoriented, when all hell broke loose again.

"What - the fuck - is that thing?" Jack had seemed a little groggy as she got up, medigel slathered all over her left temple, but all sense of confusion disappeared as she stared behind us. Shepard and I turned, and gaped in unison.

The monstrosity before us was practically indescribable, a dark, insect-like creature with a mouth full of human skulls. It was almost as terrifying as the thresher from Edolas.

Almost.

The Commander recovered first. "I don't know, Jack," she said, swapping her hand cannon for the beam rifle she'd found on the way through the civilian quarters, "but I'm willing to bet it'll die if we shoot at it." She fired the weapon, the electronic whine winding its way through the air in a way that was almost palpable, and the battle began anew.

* * *

"No, don't let 'em get away!" The mechanic was panicked, gesturing wildly at the retreating Collector ship.

"There's nothing we can do. They're gone," Teandra said with resignation, but not without compassion. The sound of her voice turned the man's anger on her.

"Half the colony's in there! They took Egan and Sam and... and Lilith. _Do_ something."

"I didn't _want_ it to end this way," again, the ritual pain tainted her voice. It was the same voice she'd used when resigning herself to Toombs' fate, the one she'd used when Ashley had died. "I _did_ what I could."

"More than most, Shepard," I said sadly, knowing nothing I could say would make her feel any better, or keep her from ripping herself apart for what she would see as a failure.

"Shepard?" The man's rage toned down a single notch, his brain working as he tried to place the reference. "Wait, I _know_ that name. Sure, I remember you. You're some type of big Alliance hero."

"Commander Shepard," a new, and familiar voice said.

A voice, that if it were up to me, I would never have heard again. Kaidan Alenko, probably the last person Teandra _needed_ to see at that moment, walked around from a stack of crates in front of us.

"Captain of the _Normandy_. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel." He looked at the mechanic, continuing, "You're in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost."

 _Now?_ Now _he shows up? Just when she was starting to recover from feeling abandoned by_ all _of us? And here I was hoping the Collectors had taken his ass as well, the little_ verna.

Time had treated him well, I'd admit that if nothing else. He looked good, like he had experienced no effect whatsoever from her absence. _Wish_ _ **I'd**_ _looked that good when she showed back up, instead of battle-weary, bloodied, and broken._

"All the good people we lost and _you_ get left behind. Figures," Delan said as he crossed his arms. _My sentiment exactly,_ I thought, as he went on. "Screw this. I'm done wit' you Alliance types." He waved his hands dismissively as he walked off, headed to spirits knew where on that now forsaken colony. None of us had the presence of mind to care.

My focus was on the scene in front of me.

The human pair I was watching pained me to see, and it was only then that I really realized how different my feelings for my little Spectre had become from the SR1; how much I'd lied to Jacob without meaning to. On the old _Normandy_ , I had willingly accepted Kaidan's physical relationship with Teandra without question or qualm. Had even encouraged it, in my own way, much as I had earlier with Taylor.

But now? Now I found I almost couldn't watch as they approached each other, gazes matched much as they had been by the equipment lockers, while we had been under lock and key on the Citadel.

 _If you want her to be happy, you have to accept that_ _ **he**_ _is what grants her that..._ The thought trailed off as they embraced, melding into each other. But their motions lacked the severity of Shepard's and my reunion. She had thrown herself at me with a forceful need for comfort, had seemed almost worried I would reject her. There was such intensity here, but not on her end. She only seemed happy to see that he was alright, not necessarily happy about being in his proximity.

I blinked, confused, as Kaidan spoke from within her embrace, "I thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did."

She pulled away from his arms, gauging his expression as she said, "It's been too long, Kaidan. How have you been?" A decidedly polite question, and there was a longing and sadness to her tone that couldn't be missed, but it seemed to open a floodgate of words from the biotic.

"Is _that_ all you have to say? You show up after two years and just act like nothing happened?" His voice was filled with... I'm not sure what. It was something akin to hatred, and pain, and hopelessness. "I thought we had something, Shepard. I... I loved you."

 _Welcome to the club, Kaidan. We have custom pistols._ I fought to keep my face straight, and choked back a snort, knowing that would be a very inappropriate reaction in this situation, no matter how I felt about the guy and his idiocy. _The difference between us is I don't think I could ever use the past tense to describe an emotion like love. You either do or you don't._

Shepard stepped back as if struck, just staring at him as the last phrase sank in, unable to speak as he continued, "Thinking you were dead tore me apart. How could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were _alive_?"

_By the spirits, Alenko, if you'd just let her get a word in edgewise..._

"Not my goddamn choice, Kaidan!" She didn't seem hurt anymore, at least not on the surface, not that I thought the biotic would know enough to see anything deeper. Outwardly, she just looked _bored_. "I spent the last two years in some kind of coma while Cerberus rebuilt me."

I guess having to explain to every single fucking person we ran into on this adventure exactly where she'd been and what she'd been doing in the last two years got tiresome after a while. I know _I_ was certainly tired of hearing it.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Kaidan's face contorted in an expression of rage and betrayal, and he looked as if he would strike her. _You lay a damn hand on her, Alenko, and more than words will be exchanged today._ I growled before I could help it, but thankfully no one noticed that particular protective response.

He didn't hit her, though. Instead, he chose the more painful option, taking three steps back as if he didn't want to be near her. He glanced at first to Jack, then me, as he moved, almost as if he were just noticing us. As his eyes fell upon me, though, there was something else: That jealousy that I had hoped the fool had outgrown was still there. I knew, at that point, that no amount of talking was going to make this end well, but damn if I wasn't going to let Teandra try. This was her battle, and I wasn't going to take it from her.

"You're with Cerberus now, huh? _Garrus,_ too. I can't believe the reports were right." I glanced at the still-obscured Cerberus symbol on her armor, realizing that the green smiley had been replaced by the Ixian Symbol for 'fight' in a familiar shade of silver. How could he not see it? How could he believe she'd be there for any reason other than a desperate one?

Then what he said hit me. "Reports? You mean you _**already**_ knew?" _And you were here on this damn planet instead of out looking for her? What kind of a fucking mate_ are _you?_ The rage I felt in that moment should have shocked me... but strangely enough, it didn't. Luckily, before the world could take on the blue-tinted haze that was usually prelude to a turian bent on rectifying a grievous wrong-doing committed to a fellow clan member, I got myself under control. I couldn't gather more details if I wasn't in control, and as I'd said to many before, Shepard could take care of herself.

The dark-haired man ignored me, eyes only on her as he explained. "Alliance intel thought Cerberus might be behind the missing human colonies. They got a tip this one might be the next one hit." He ducked his head for a minute, then looked back up, blue crackling at his fingertips as he clenched his fists. I felt Jack's biotics fire up in turn next to me, the electricity flowing across my skin in an eerie fashion, but I shook my head at her. She paid me no mind, continuing to play with the energy ominously, a sneer gracing her features all the while.

"Anderson stonewalled me, but there were rumors you weren't dead," Kaidan continued, boring a hole into the female in front of him as if he could hurt her with just his gaze. "That you were working for the enemy."

Now it was Shepard's turn to be angry, as she spat, "Cerberus and I want the same thing: To save our colonies. That doesn't mean _I_ answer to _them_."

He took a tentative step forward, voice dropping but still dripping poison, "Do you really believe that? Or is that just what Cerberus _wants_ you to think? I wanted to believe the rumors that you were alive, but I never expected anything like _this_." The dark-haired man came right back up to her, almost in her face, but his voice hadn't gotten any louder in spite of his anger. "You turned your back on everything we believed in. You betrayed the Alliance. _You betrayed_ _ **me**_ _."_

I sensed her intent only a second before I reached forward, snagging the drag handle on the back of her armor, as she started to launch herself at Alenko with a guttural scream of rage. He backed away, biotic barrier going up as he realized he'd crossed the line.

" _ **Let me go, Garrus!"**_ She dug her heels in, pulling against my grasp.

"I don't think so, little Spectre." I grunted as I braced against her almost _unreal_ strength, "If _I_ can't shoot him, _you_ can't, either." She continued to struggle against my hold, opting for brute force as anger overcame her tactical expertise. If she'd had her wits about her, as the saying went, she'd have used her hand-to-hand skills to dislodge me, instead.

" _I don't_ _ **wanna**_ _shoot him, I wanna_ _ **kill**_ _him!_ If that goddamn _ben'jee,_ or anyone else, calls me a traitor _one more_ _ **FUCKING**_ _time...!"_ Her chest was heaving as she finally calmed, not completely but just enough for me to feel comfortable letting her go.

She glared at me, but I just shook my head, explaining, "He's Alliance, Shepard. And Spectre or no, you don't want to do permanent damage to one of their ranking officers." She turned her anger back on Alenko as I spoke, (thankfully) accepting my explanation without further argument.

"I want to believe you Shepard," Kaidan started again, "But I don't trust Cerberus. They could be using the threat of a Reaper to manipulate you..." She tensed, and before I could stop her she launched herself again, tackling him as she punched him in the gut. She got at least one more hit in before I pulled her off, grabbing her full around the waist and bringing her to me still kicking and punching at empty air.

_Gee, guess Sparatus's words about that must've burned a little bit._

"Lemme go, dammit! I didn't _shoot_ him!"

Her arms and legs ceased their flailing after a moment, but I continued to hold her armored form to me until she said, "It's okay. You can put me down now, Garrus." I did so, trusting the tone of her voice more than her words.

"I won't hit him, but I _will_ have my say." She rounded on Kaidan once again, and the biotic had only just regained his feet. In a hurry, he fired his shield back up, just in case, but didn't even try to retaliate for her previous attack.

_That's because he knows I'd kill him. Just like I said I would if he ever hurt her._

Teandra was back at her verbal battle, however, so I couldn't waste too much time on that thought, "You are so full of _verna,_ Kaidan. It could have been _your_ ass Saren was after, since it was _me_ that shoved you out of contact with the artifact on Eden Prime. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered, since it would have broken your _narrow little mind_. But do I at least get a thank you for that, _ben'jee?"_

He stared at her, hearing but not listening, "You can't even insult me in galactic anymore, can you?"

 **No.** _No way he's doing this to her, discounting her words and disbelieving her story, over some relationship shit. He's better than that, right?_ I stopped, then rolled my eyes. _Never-mind, what am I thinking? This is Alenko._

"Damn it, Kaidan, you're so focused on Cerberus," _and other things_ , I thought bitterly, "you're ignoring the real threat."

Again, he deliberately ignored me, speaking to Shepard, "You've changed. But I still know where _my_ loyalties lie. I'm an Alliance soldier. Always will be."

He backed up again, unused biotic energy bleeding off. "I've got to report back to the Citadel. _They_ can decide if they believe your story or not." He started to walk away, steps treading forcefully as if he were still trying to contain his anger.

Teandra crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she said, "Yeah, well, don't let the door hit you on the way out..." I wasn't sure what she meant, but apparently Kaidan did, because it prompted him to turn back.

"Goodbye, Shepard. And be careful."

Then, he was gone before she could even reply.

"Who the fuck was _that_ guy?" Jack asked. She had remained silent and almost unnoticed throughout the entire conversation, "Ex-boyfriend?"

"Nah, just some guy who thinks he's fucking god." She touched her comm, "Joker, send a shuttle ASAP. I've had enough of this colony."

_That, my dear Teandra, makes two of us._


	7. Over the Horizon

_He's into me for everything I'm not_

_According to you..._

Orianthi - "According to You"

 

**Chapter 6- Over the Horizon**

"Teandra, are you going to open this door, or do I have to override the lock again?" _Only for the third time I've know you, after all. Since breaking and entering is something_ every _cop aspires to._

"Officer Vakarian, to do so would not only prove difficult considering the multiple levels of Cerberus encryption, but would also violate security protocols," EDI chimed in.

 _A machine should_ not _be able to sound smug,_ I thought petulantly. _We've_ got _to keep her away from Joker for a while. Preferably_ before _he starts teaching her dirty jokes._

Why no, I _wouldn't_ have put it past our intrepid pilot to teach the bane of his existence how to embarrass the rest of us as retaliation for having to put up with... her. Why do you ask?

"Shut up, EDI. Organic stuff going on here." I brought up my omni-tool, tapping at it steadily as I spoke. Yeah, it _was_ a good program, but that didn't keep me from getting through it in under a minute. Tali would have found it as amusing as that 'pong' game Shepard had shown us a long while back.

"See, NnB? You really should have more... _by the spirits!_ "

A wall of sound launched itself at me as the door moved on it's track. My teeth fairly rattled as a steady _golah_ rhythm ( _guitar_ , Teandra called it a _guitar_ ) assualted my person, and it took me a moment to register a female voice underneath all the noise.

A female voice that was singing just a little off key.

 

_When you see my face_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell..._

 

I moved forward, mouth slightly agape as I watched the scene in front of me. Teandra was singing along with the song at the top of her lungs, head moving up and down with the beat and hair flying about crazily with the motion. She was wearing her unofficial off-duty uniform Ash had always called 'jeans-and-a-tee,' as if the phrase were all one word. The shirt, however, was a new one. The old one, an Alliance blue garment that had seen better days, had gone down with the SR1, and had been replaced (rather recently, from the look of it) with a slightly smaller one in cobalt.

It reminded me a bit of her new armor. _And it kind of looks like my_ _ **clan colors**_ _, come to think of it,_ I thought.

Instantly, I was bombarded with images of the cobalt lace garment used in one of the first stages of rites negotiations. _Mom's handiwork would look wonderful on her, especially in contrast to her hair color..._ it only took me a moment to realize where my thoughts had tread, allowing me to school those rebellious thoughts fiercely. But the image refused to leave my head no matter what I wanted.

 _Stow it, Vakarian. We've been over this: She's just a friend, a fellow soldier. Get that through your thick skull, and your life will be_ so _much easier._

I moved forward through the doorway, leaning against the empty fish-tank with my arms crossed, doing my best to stay quiet so I wouldn't interrupt this rather entertaining display before it had run it's course.

The redhead was now jumping up and down, barefoot, on her leather couch in time with the rhythm, as she continued to belt out the oh-so-appropriate lyrics.

 

_Now where's your picket fence love?_

_And where's that shiny car?_

_And did it ever get you far?_

_You've never seemed so tense love_

_I've never seen you fall so hard,_

_Do you know where you are?_

 

Then, as she reached the part right before what I'd come to recognize as the refrain, she leaped from the couch to the glass-topped table nearby, her voice growing louder as she continued to sing along.

 

_And truth be told I miss you_

 

 _Oh, I somehow doubt that,_ I snorted to myself. Then I saw her lips curve into an almost vicious smirk as she screamed out the next line with a laugh.

 

 _And truth be told_ _**I'm lying** _

 

I almost gave myself away when I heard that, but I held my laughter in, if only just. _That's my girl._

I'm not so sure what I had expected to find when I went up to her room, but it certainly wasn't _this._ Even now, more than two years later, memories from the aftermath of Virmire still came up from time to time, and the nearly-palpable grief I'd encountered upon entering her cabin that day was still clear to my senses when those memories surfaced.

Of course, she'd loved Ashley like a sister, and that loss had been catastrophic. Losing Alenko, on the other hand, appeared to be the exact opposite, if what I was seeing right then was to be believed.

 _Leave it to Teandra to celebrate a breakup rather than mourn it, and to do it with music. I should show her_ **Eternal Slumber** _ **.** _ _She'd like the lead singer, for sure..._

Human music styles weren't so different on some level than turian, some genres having more similarities than others. Punk lyrics blended with the heavier beat of most turian bands had given that particular group their unique 'sound,' and their big break. The female lead, who also wrote most of their songs, always made her views on romance quite clear. Their most popular song to date was, "Break Up? (I'll Break You...)" and seemed to match my friend's current mood completely. I snorted, continuing to be unnoticed as the song came to an end. She ended her little performance by pumping a fist in the air, then leaping from her makeshift stage to her bed, landing face-down and laughing uncontrollably as she rolled across the surface until she was flat on her back, staring at the ceiling with a manic grin on her lips.

I started clapping slowly, finally laughing out loud myself as I moved to the head of the stairway. Shepard yelped like a wounded varren, actually _yelped_ , and jumped to her bare feet guiltily. The blush that colored her face had to have been the fiercest she'd ever had in my presence. I laughed harder, which looked to piss her off further.

"Vakarian, are you _ever_ going to learn to fucking knock?" she demanded, out of breath as she glared at me.

I tilted my head slightly to the right, looking at her with mock-indignation. "C'mon. You _know_ I had to test myself against the updated encryptions eventually. Today was as good a day as any."

"And what if I'd been changing clothes, huh? Or cleaning my rifle?" The prospect of shooting me actually seemed to amuse her at that point in time, so badly was she embarrassed by the situation. Little did she know she'd managed to embarrass me in return, as my mind had latched onto the _first_ half of her statement. Now, instead of just thinking about a cobalt blue shawl at a clan negotiation, my mind decided to bring up an image where she was wearing that and _nothing else._

I wasn't even sure how I was able to envision it, as while I'd seen her in various states of undress, completely nude wasn't one of them. That, of course, didn't stop my mind from filling in the gaps in my knowledge base, since she'd been down to her undergarments for at least _one_ of those occasions. Again, I forced the image down into the deepest recesses of my brain, knowing she'd pick up on it. Still, it was good to know I'd finally found _something_ to completely fluster her the way she seemed to be constantly screwing with me.

And the way that last thought was phrased _did not_ help the situation in the slightest.

My mandibles flared again as I grinned even wider, praying to all the spirits it looked geniune enough to keep her from pulling her little mind-reading trick.

"I survived a rocket blast. _To the face_. Do you really think one little old sniper round is going to take me out?"

She chuckled at my words, the frown falling from her face, but she was still blushing profusely as she shook her head, commenting, "Same old Garrus. Such a smart ass."

She gestured towards the couch, and I plopped down, watching as she threw herself backwards onto her bed. The motion caused her shirt to ride up incrementally, and I did my best not to stare like an idiot at that shade of blue against her pale skin.

Honestly, I'm not sure I succeeded.

"And same old Teandra. I figured you'd be up here all heartbroken." Still staring at the ceiling, she snorted with disdain.

"Yeah right, you know me better than that. Alenko was a piece of ass. I'd even admit, under threat of torture, that he was a pretty good one, at that. But you and I both know I don't believe in love." She reached down to pull her shirt back down self-consciously, much to my relief. It made it easier to concentrate on the conversation, but not much.

"And you and I both know he was more than a one-night stand," I said back, with full sincerity. "Go feed that ration of crap to Kelly, because you should know by now that I don't buy it."

She flipped onto her stomach, spinning around to face me as she propped herself up on her elbows, "Okay, fine. _Maybe_ I had figured he had potential. _Maybe_ I had actually considered all the possibilities. But that doesn't change the fact that it's better this way." Reflexively, she tucked her hair behind both ears, and I _forced_ myself to pull my gaze back to her face, instead of letting it wander down her body and take notice of the way her curves were accentuated by the pants she was wearing. She would have noticed, after all, and she would _never_ have let me live it down.

 _Goddamn, but you are a_ _**mess** _ _, Vakarian._

"He didn't know _shit_ about me," she continued, her expression sour. "The fact that he thought I'd just _hide_ for two years, or **voluntarily** work for the people who ruined my life proves that. I'm more pissed off in his lack of faith in us than anything else." She paused, and the next sentence she uttered seemed to be completely non-sequitter. "What do you think he'd have done if he knew about Finch?"

 _He'd have shit a brick, and immediately applied for a transfer._ The thought made me snort, and the look of derision she shot my way had me scrambling to clarify the action. "I don't recall responding so greatly to that, myself," I replied with a grimace, shaking my head at the memory. "And I'm not too crazy about the whole Cerberus thing, either, little Spectre." She looked at me, face lighting up at the old nickname as if she found it comforting.

"And yet, you're here," she pointed out with a wave of her hand.

"Because _you're_ here," I responded. "I might not trust _them_ , but _you_ are a whole different story."

She smirked, "And that's my point." She laughed at her own statement, a clear and untainted sound it seemed I hadn't heard in years. Then, it occurred to me it probably _had_ been years since I'd heard that completely unchecked version of her laughter. I pushed the thought away before it threatened to take this conversation in an unpleasant direction.

"Alright, consider me sufficiently cheered up. But _you,_ " she pointed at me accusingly, "still owe me."

I crossed my arms, sitting back fully, flaring my mandibles in amusement, noting there was only a small amount of lingering discomfort in the right one. "Really now? And what do I owe you, little Spectre?"

"An apology, for laughing at my dancing."

I snorted. "Was _that_ what you were doing? I was getting ready to grab the medkit, thinking it was some sort of seizure."

She narrowed her eyes, sitting up to perch on the edge of the bed with that familiar air of challenge. "Think you can put on a better show?"

I hesitated, only then realizing what dangerous ground I might be treading upon. Still, I shook my head, unable to help myself as I responded, "I don't think, I _know_ I could. But turians only dance with partners, and almost _never_ in public..."

"So? I'm right here," she said. _Yep, dangerous ground._

"I don't think it's a good idea, Shepard." I _really_ didn't have the willpower, after watching Kaidan reject her so easily, to deal with this right now. For the first time in our acquaintance, she was technically free for me to pursue her. The fact that neither of us was supposed to _want_ to pursue the other, per our previous unspoken agreement, didn't make the opening any less blatant. Couple that with the cultural consequences of what she was trying to trick me into asking...

This had the potential for a particularly nasty form of personal disaster, no doubt about it.

She grinned at the use of her clan name, knowing she had me flustered. What she didn't know was _why,_ and I planned on keeping it that way.

"Scared? You know I have a better sense of rhythm, don't you?"

Unfortunately, I knew _exactly_ what a good sense of rhythm she had, thanks to her little show at _Lapsus,_ almost two and a half years prior _._ That really wasn't helping my resolve to just walk away. Damn her, she knew just how to push my buttons, didn't she?

I leaned forward, almost purring, "You don't want to play this game with me, Teandra. I promise."

She paused, but was still grinning as she asked, "Why not?"

"You _don't_ know what you're getting yourself into..." I trailed off, remembering a song from a band I'd introduced her to on the SR1. They'd made their way into her collection, despite being more mainstream than what she usually listened to, and they had a sound that would work perfectly for the situation.

I stopped cold at that last thought. _You're not actually considering this,_ _ **are**_ _you?_

The less-than-sensible side of my brain ignored that thought, and I stood to move to the wall. Tapping lightly at the buttons on the sound system's interface, I perused her music list idly as she watched me from the bed. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I wondered, but that didn't stop me from giving her instructions.

"Fine. You win, Teandra. But don't say you weren't warned. Move the table so we have room." She complied, finishing just as I found what I was looking for.

 _By the damn spirits, if my father_ _ **ever**_ _finds out about this..._ then again, it wasn't like he hadn't already disowned me over my so-called inappropriate relationship with the very woman in the room with me. What else could he do, other than say, "I told you so"?

_Of course, that would require him to actually speak to me. Like THAT will ever happen._

I punched the button.

Instantly, the room was filled with a relentless dance beat. Teandra's face lit at the selection, one of Expel 10's older songs, as I moved towards her.

"This song, Garrus?" She smiled wistfully. "Why?"

"Be quiet, little Spectre. Pursuer leads the dance in turian society, in order to showcase his skills to..." I swiftly brought that sentence to an end, remembering that finishing it aloud would be a _very_ bad idea. Instead, I took her hands, placing one on my shoulder plate and the other palm of the other against my own much larger one. I pulled slightly, bringing her body flush with mine.

"I guide, you follow. Respond to my movements, just like on the battlefield."

She was so close, eyes filled with excitement, possibly at the unusual way I was asserting myself. It was almost too much to deal with, the scent of her that had haunted my dreams combined with her current expression of total trust and contentment...

 _Watch yourself, Garrus, or this will end very, very badly. For both of you,_ I thought, but at that point the music and the adrenaline overrode common sense, and nothing existed but our movements.

* * *

#####

* * *

_Never, not in a million years, would I ever have expected to be here,_ I thought as my movements matched Garrus'. Expel 10's remake of that old Chris Brown song beat around me; one that every-time I heard it, forcefully reminded me of the first time I'd heard it all over again.

" _Alright kids, I know it's been raining for days and everyone is all full of energy!" Elayne's voice is that ever patient, motherly sound that you would never know belonged to a fighter with such a hard core. She wouldn't hesitate to shoot anyone who tried to intrude on our sanctuary in the run-down library we called home. Today, though, that shouldn't be an issue because of the intense downpour._

" _I'm going to teach you all how to dance today. We'll start with something simple. Salsa, I think, since it has such easy steps." She moves down the line of eight children, five girls and three boys, pairing us off. I get Carra, much to everyone's amusement, but_ I _don't care. Carra is my favorite playmate, and that makes the lesson even more fun. She takes lead, being the bigger and older one, and that's just fine by me._

_Jackson is working with the music player, which is resting on what once had been the library's reference desk. It's an ancient thing, so old it probably shouldn't function anymore, but thankfully, it does. In nicer, more civilized areas of the world, anything other than digital music is pretty much extinct. Not here. Here, in our little forsaken part of the universe, contemporary technology is all but nonexistent. The only reason we even have power is because Jorley figured out how to steal it from the business building across the street, creating a hacking program to keep up with the constantly-changing password. And even then some devices aren't compatible._

_With an almost imperceptible amount of static, the music starts to play, and Jackson grabs Elayne's hand enthusiastically. She laughs gleefully once she realizes what is playing._

" _How did you_ ever _find this? It's the first song we danced to..." They smile at each other in a way that makes us all groan, kissing each other lightly while we watch._

" _Ewwww!" Daniella, the next-youngest girl after me says, covering her eyes with both hands._

_"Grown ups are gross," grumbles Ethan, a dark-skinned boy about Carra's age._

" _It's_ not _gross. They look like Beast and Belle!" I say, and a fight would have ensued if Jackson hadn't spoken up._

" _Since when am I_ beastly _?" He sounds rather disgruntled, and proceeds to growl as he chases us around the room, hands becoming makeshift claws as we squeal at the new game._

" _Alright, alright, children," Elanye says, eyes focused on Jackson as she calls us such, "line back up so you can watch us, then copy our movements." We do as we're told, as we always do when it comes to Elayne, and Jackson resumes his place in front of his partner. They assume the position, and without a single outward sign of agreement, they're off, moving gracefully around the area we've cleared for the afternoon's purpose. The group looks on in awe, only hoping we'll get a full lesson before the older kids from the gang return from their street raids._

_For a few minutes, we are carefree. We are allowed to feel nothing but the music, the freedom that is associated with losing yourself within the passion the artist invested in his work..._

Never in a million years.

Dancing with Garrus was not the awkward thing I had imagined it would be, when I had jokingly challenged his skill. Even within human culture, more often than not the uninitiated watch, assume it's as easy as it looks, and make idiots out of themselves as the footwork eludes them.

Garrus was _not_ one of the uninitiated.

In a way, our movements were no different than when we'd faced down Harbinger's minions on Horizon. Our bodies moved as if they were two parts of the same whole.

I had learned Goddess knows how many dance styles from Jackson and Elayne after that rainy afternoon. With salsa, I was passable in a week, and pestered my surrogate mother until she taught me the basics of swing. When her expertise ran out, there was a plethora of knowledge at my disposal in the books and movies that were held within the stacks of the library. It was what had forced had to learn to use the card catalogue, so I could further feed my secret obsession.

Upon reflection, that's probably where my penchant for hacking and decrypting originated. I had wanted, no, _needed_ to find out everything that I could about dancing as an art form, and had been pissed off, in my own very childish way, when roadblocks revealed themselves along the way. I stopped at nothing to get the information I needed, and that was a trait I hadn't outgrown.

Of course, no one would ever have guessed that dancing was one of my hobbies. Most knew I loved music, if they observed me for any length of time; but few knew that in my head, I was crafting entire routines to be carried out later in the privacy of my quarters, set to the strains wafting from the speakers of any sound system within my reach. It was one of my few _healthy_ escapes from the absolute insanity that was my life. When I was listening to anything, be it Grieg or Gwen Stefani, and allowing my body to flow with the music, life ceased to hold any problems for me for a while.

But even with my knowledge, had you asked me to describe what we were doing, I couldn't have told you. The attitude was like a tango or samba: Just another competition as his pacing increased and his movements became more elaborate once he figured out I knew the correct cues and responses, and the I was willing to let him take lead. In spite of my passion for the activity, releasing control was the hardest part of the whole process. When being led on the floor, fighting the instructions of your partner would bring disaster, cause the beauty to disintegrate as the dance fell apart. I had realized that rather quickly, and because of my love for the art was able to carve a spot out in my life to allow it to happen. The dance floor became one of the few places in my life where I had learned to enjoy allowing myself to be guided by another, if only for a brief period of time.

Watching Garrus' face, however, you would have thought we were dancing a waltz: Something slow, intimate, and sensuous, yet... somehow formal. His blue eyes were filled with admiration and affection, emotions that I never doubted he felt, but that he usually kept well in check, knowing my disdain for emotional attachments. Today, though, he seemed to have lowered that barrier. Something I, surprisingly, not only found myself grateful for, but imitating. There was a softness to his taloned hands that I never would have thought to look for, one that matched his easy grace perfectly as he guided me through the motions that were purely his design.

He had called his footwork 'passable.' I now called that a joke. He was even better than I was, but I was too busy losing myself bit by bit to wonder at the strangeness.

 

_Feels like we're on another level_

_Feels like our loves intertwined_

_We can be two rebels_

_Breaking the rules_

_Me and you_

_You and I_

 

Hindered only by the small space we used, for four and a half minutes the problems of the galaxy were forced onto the back burner as my long-time partner in everything other sense of the word (alright, fine, everything but _that_ ) became my partner in a very technical and literal way. He steered me through maneuver after movement with me laughing all the while, his face lighting up each time the happy sound left me. One second he'd be leading me into a fast spin that would catch my breath as I trusted him to keep me on my feet, hair flying around me. The next, I was back in his arms as we whirled across the floor, his eyes never leaving mine.

In that moment, I knew that something had changed.

_Teandra, this man has got you figured out better than you ever could have known..._

He spun me again, only this time he stopped it mid-turn, yanking me back, and bringing our bodies flush as we both continued to move with the pulse of the song. I became acutely aware of how close we were, and his harsh breathing across my cheek as we melded into each other was threatening to intrude upon my calm.

If we hadn't crossed that invisible line we'd drawn in the proverbial sand just now, we were definitely stomping all over it, and that scared the hell out of me. And I really, _really_ don't like it when anything, including my own hangups, get in the way of me having a good time. I didn't have many "good times" to look back on, and the universe could go fuck itself for conspiring to taint something that brought me even the least bit of happiness.

So, with a concerted effort, I ignored it, and my own breath quickened in turn; spurred on by the realization that my fears about him not finding me attractive were faulty, evident from the closeness of our hips and his reaction to such. Pure adrenaline and unchecked joy sang through my body, enveloping me in an emotional high that I couldn't ignore, or fight anymore.

Neither of us was willing to question ourselves until the music's spell had released us.

His warm chest to my back, I reached up to lay my left hand on his mandible, slowly bringing the pads of my fingers back down his neck as I marveled at the wondrous feel of the smooth skin that lay around the plating. We moved in tandem, as if our bodies had taken our most heartfelt need to be as one, making us overcome our own self-imposed rules; his talons moved gently over my arms until they settled on either side of my waist, ever so lightly, then more tightly as he realized I wasn't pulling away. For the first time ever, I was trusting him, as no one else before; allowing myself to believe he wouldn't rip apart my warrior's heart in this few minutes of weakness that allowed me to lay it bare.

 

_It's a long way down,_

_We're so high off the ground,_

_Sending for an angel to bring me your heart_

_Girl, where did you come from?_

_Got me so undone...  
_

 

He gripped my right hand from where it was laying over his own on my left hip, spinning me out, only to bring me right back to face him, still smiling and laughing in amazement.

 

_Gazing in your eyes got me singing_

' _What a beautiful lady.'_

_No "ifs", "ands," or "maybes"_

_I'm releasing my heart and it's feeling amazing_

 

In a breath, our foreheads met, the warmth of the silky-yet-hard skin of his carapace meeting my own. He sighed, and a murmuring sound caught my attention at the same time as a slight vibration from where our foreheads touched. His eyes closed as I watched, the sound explained as I realized that strange, yet familiar, mouth was singing along with the song. With severity, I recalled what an avid fan of the band he was, but that still didn't stop my heart from melting just a bit as I listened.

 

_There's no one else that matters_

_You love me_

_And I won't let you fall, girl_

_I won't let you fall..._

 

He lightly twirled me, bringing us back to our prior position for a moment as the song swelled to a crescendo, and I discovered that his earlier reaction to our proximity hadn't been imagined. Realizing my friend was attracted to _me_ , and not just what I represented should have sent me over the edge of my own happy emotions with complete and total terror. But it didn't; I was beyond caring, it seemed, choosing to simply treasure the blessed lack of worry at our closeness and enjoying the sheer artistry of our instinctive responses to one another. Driven by the tune, and by my rebellious heart, I molded closer to him with a sheer abandon, something that would have scared me further.

If I'd allowed myself to examine it more closely, that is.

The vibrations of the song slowly tapered off as it ended, and, completely winded and exhilarated, we both fell backwards onto the bed, panting much more than the workout called for. As our breathing slowed, a not uncomfortable silence descended on the room for a few minutes as we both searched for something, _anything_ to say after the amazing thing we'd both just experienced.

I'm sure there were plenty of things we could have talked about right then, but wouldn't you know it, I couldn't think of a single one that wouldn't completely ruin what had just happened.

Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore, so I settled on asking the obvious.

"Garrus?"

"Yeah?"

"Where in the _hell_ did that come from?" He laughed harshly at my question, and as I considered his expression, I realized he was _way_ more embarrassed than the situation called for, no matter what reaction he'd had to our closeness. _I'm an adult, Garrus. Have a little faith in me._ I was still wondering as he answered my question. "Most turians can dance. Not as stylishly, of course, but they do possess the know-how."

I rolled my eyes, not sure _why_ I was expecting a serious answer in the first place. I turned on my side to look at him, damn near rolling into him in the process. "And we don't see them ruling the dance clubs because...?" His eyes were closed as I spoke, as if he were trying to block out anything other than the activities of last few minutes from intruding.

He didn't say anything for a while, and I was about to prod him again when he finally answered. "It's not something we advertise," he sighed, and it was probably the happiest sound I had heard out of him in the entire time of our acquaintance. Definitely since I'd found him again.

"Garrus, that's not an explanation." I propped myself up on an elbow to look him in the face, waiting for him to go on.

Again, he sighed, saying, "No, Teandra, it isn't. I warned you not to play this game with me, so now you'll just have to deal with waiting to find out. If I tell you more, it'll kill this mood, and I'm rather comfortable right now." His voice still held that perpetual sarcasm, but there was something else in his tone that I couldn't quite define. I shook my head, laying on his chest before I realized what I was doing. I kept it there for nearly half a minute before my conscious mind caught up with the rest of me, and I jumped, starting to pull away only to feel his arm come around, resting on my waist as if it belonged there. I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what to make of this latest development, then thought better of it.

_Nope, not going to think too hard about anything right now._

I snuggled into the hollow of his arm at that accepting gesture, thinking all the while, _What in the hell is wrong with me?_ Rarely did I grant myself this sort of weakness. My survival instincts screamed at me, telling me to get up and run, as fast and as far as I could, but I forced them down with the sheer, unfettered exultation of the last few minutes. (Hours? Days? I'd honestly lost track of time at that point.)

"The emotional high I totally get. That was amazing," I breathed into his shirt, inhaling deeply as I took in his scent.  The strange combination of spice and ocean, always seeming to be laced with the smell of spent heat sinks and rifle oil.

Completely without preamble, that night from so long ago came back to me, and it was all I could do not to groan out loud with mortification. While, initially, I'd had no recollection of what had transpired after we left the bar in the Palazar hotel, bits and pieces had been coming to the surface in the last few months. One of those memories was one that Garrus _hadn't_ related to me the morning after, as he'd been completely dead to the world next to me at the time it had occurred.

I hadn't recalled waking up at all during the night I'd spent in his room, but apparently, I had. His scent brought forth an image to my mind's eye, one that I had only replayed once since that night, right after the mission to Freedom's Progress. Seeing Tali after, what I later realized, was a very long time, only to have to part ways with her again? It had left me feeling completely homesick for what I'd had before the Collectors had decided to take everything away from me, the closest thing to home I had known since leaving Earth behind.

_I try to roll over, but find I can't turn all the way over onto my right side. The instinctive response to my restricted movements causes me to start awake. My movements are sluggish and my vision blurry, but I can't figure out why, which causes me even more alarm. I reach out my right hand, trying to figure out where I am, and come in contact with something warm and familiar, yet... not. I turn my head, and I nearly expel the contents of my stomach right then and there, as the motion causes my vision to swim for a moment. I shove my nausea down reflexively, in soldier mode as I scramble to decipher my surrounding, and wait for my vision to return to normal. The fog clears, finally, and the kaleidoscope of colors and shapes coalesce into a very familiar face._

_"Garrus?" I whisper worriedly, reaching up with my right hand to try to shake him awake. Something is wrong, and I'm not sure if he is injured, or drugged, or dying... Before I could even touch him, though, one of his arms wraps around my waist, cradling me to his chest. I feel a slight pressure on my left arm, but ignore it, focusing on my companion._

_A rather rough-textured leg pulls my lower half closer to him, and he murmurs quietly, "S'okay. I've got you. Go back to sleep, Teandra."_

_I lift my head to ask him what he means by that, only to realize he is snoring again. My head drops back down to the bed, and without another thought, I snuggle closer to him. If he says everything is okay, then everything really is okay. I didn't need any more confirmation than that. He'd never allow me to come to harm..._

I hadn't talked to him about it, as I was pretty sure he had no idea it had happened at all, since he hadn't mentioned it the next day. And I sure as hell wasn't going to mention it now. At this rate, it would probably be better to keep it to myself, and I'd be lying if a small part of me didn't cheer at the idea of having that one little memory to call my own.

He didn't answer, but I felt his chest rumble just a bit as he chuckled in response to my statement of admiration. I closed my eyes lazily, enveloped in a cocoon of serenity as his talons played lightly up and down my side.

It was astounding, how easy I found it to let go with Garrus. I don't snuggle, plain and simple. Yet in the time I'd known him this was the third time I'd ended up seduced into the arms of this man; and not even in the way I usually am. By now, with anyone else, sex would be _all_ I was thinking about. And while I'm sure that would have been fun as hell, as my daydreams had made quite clear, at that moment I was just... content. Content was a good word.

We couldn't have lain that way for all that long, though, when I felt his body tense. I picked my head up, pulling back slightly as I tried to discern what caused the change.

His eyes snapped open, latching onto my face as if trying to gauge my mood. Whatever he saw there must not have been the response he wanted to see, though, because suddenly the moment was broken and he rapidly sat up with an expression on his face that could only be described as 'pained.'

"Well, seeing as how you're all cheered up now, I've got some work to do on the Thanix Cannon." Normally, I would have almost been _forced_ to point out how inappropriate that sounded, all things considered, but he looked so _completely_ flustered already that I couldn't make myself do it. The bed squeaked slightly as he stood, moving for the door with a purpose. I looked after him in utter confusion from my half-propped position.

He slowed, then stopped as he reached the doorframe, one hand gripping either side as he hesitated. I sat up fully, watching as he fought some internal battle. He took a breath, started to speak, thought better of it, then started again.

 _There's something strange going on here_ , I thought, watching him.

Finally, he turned back halfway, voice almost back to its usual humor as he said, "And Teandra? Thank you for the dance." There was also an almost formal tone to the words, as if it were part of a ritual response.

My confusion grew, but I ignored it as I answered, "Any time, Garrus." He chuckled, the sound a poor imitation of what it should have sounded like. It sounded, to me, just this side of contrived, but the body language didn't match. Releasing some of the tension in his posture, he nodded as he resumed his forward motion without another word.

_Definitely something strange going on here. What the hell?_

The empty room gave me no answers. Shrugging in resignation, I idly tapped my omni-tool, queuing the song to start playing again as I lay back down. It was only there, with my mind wrapped within my recent memory and my arms wrapped around a pillow that was too soft to be a true substitute, I gave myself permission to smile like the idiot I felt.

One thing I knew for sure: I would never forget that afternoon.

Never in a million years.

* * *

#####

* * *

bang...

Bang...

BANG...

"Officer Vakarian. Cerberus has spent considerable resources building this vessel. While turian skull-plating is indicated to do very little damage when applied to the material used in the _Normandy's_ production, it would still be advisable for you to cease using it to apply such a large amount of force to the wall."

I hesitated, forehead pressed against the cool metal of the forward batteries, groaning, "NnB, leave me alone please. I've got too much _verna_ to deal with to worry about your 'resources' right now." The only reason I wasn't being mean was because if it weren't for her interruption, my head would probably be halfway through the bulkhead by now.

 _Garrus Vakarian,_ you _are an idiot,_ one part of my brain admonished, _a damn moron._ What _do you think she's going to do when she realizes what just happened?_

 _Nothing,_ the other half of my brain answered, _because you're not going to tell her, and no one else would know the significance. Like you said, it's not something that's advertised, so... no blood, no foul._

Still, didn't change the fact that I was dead if she figured it out.

_I'm so excited, and nervous, but not nearly as much as I'd have been if I waited to join Dad at the Citadel before starting dance lessons. This class is filled with boys and girls of varying ages; but most are younger, like me, their parents wanting to get it over with before true battle training starts. A lot of the kids are friends of mine, though as news of Mom and Dad's 'separation' has begun to spread, they are beginning to avoid me. Today, however, my assigned partner is Borshet Artern, the most skilled in this particular group. They always try to pair her up with first-timers, apparently, and today is no exception._

_We line up across the expanse of empty floor, the instructor calling out as we do so, "Now remember, class, pursuer will lead during the first stage of the courting phase. Today, we'll have the males take lead."_

_I've been battle training with Dad for a long time, and this isn't much different. There is a grace and beauty to the battlefield that even my young eyes have seen; one that translates easily here._

_Learning to fight had been a grueling, torturous process as I retrained my body to respond with muscle memory and instinct instead of thought. Learning to dance, however, is a natural progression forward; the mindset not so different._

_The music begins, and in spite of the fact that I have never been to a single class, my body knows what to do. Borshet is followed by Arene. Then Ruskat. By the end of the session, no one remembers my parents marital problems._

_They only remember me, and the first skill that I know is to be my own; the first one I can be proud of for the fact that it is_ mine _, though it won't be the last. I leave the dance hall, and as Mom bundles me into the family shuttle with my sisters, all I can think about is the tortuously long week I have to suffer through before my next lesson._

I couldn't help but smile at the fading memory, and the afternoon. I threw myself back on my cot, hands behind my head as I stared at the ceiling.

In spite of the problems it added to my already overly-complicated life, I wouldn't have traded my dance with Teandra for anything.

She had responded so _passionately_ , so enthusiastically... held back nothing of herself for the duration of the song's enchantment. That glimpse into her inner romantic was enough to make me want to charge back upstairs and ask her to do it again.

I tapped absently at my omnitool without looking at it, queuing the song to start replaying as I considered that further.

Consideration was necessary, since a much deeper part of me wanted to not only dance with her again, but to explain the significance as well and see where it lead...

At least _that_ urge was pretty easily squelched, mostly by the prospect of her rejection.

 _Maybe one day_ , I thought rebelliously, staring at the ceiling as the lyrics flowed over me.


	8. The End Justifies the Means

****NOTE: The following are video chat transcripts between Garrus and Teandra, and their biographers, Misty and Luna-**

_**Garrus:** _ _You only use Teandra's music, Misty. It's tainting my badass reputation. I'm choosing the next song to start the chapter._

 _**Misty:** _ _Garrus, you know I love you, but your playlist does not have what I need._

 _**Teandra:** _ _Turian music is a little hard to get good lyrics from..._

 _**Garrus:** _ _So you're on her side, then?_

 _ **Teandra:**_ _Not really. Actually, I say you use that new_ Diamond of Shame _track._

 _**Misty:** _ _(shaking her head) A turian screamer band? C'mon you two._

 _**Garrus:** _ _(laughing) What if I pick something from Tandy's playlist? Then can I choose?_

 _**Luna:** _ _It's a reasonable request, Misty. As long as it fits the theme of the chapter it shouldn't be a problem._

 _**Garrus:** _ _Finally, the voice of reason has joined the conversation. So good of you to finally show up._

 _**Luna:** _ _(rubbing at her eye with the heel of her hand) Hey, I'm working overtime at the day job. Cut me some slack._

 _**Teandra:** _ _Oh, cry me a river. We're the ones doing most of the work, here._

 _**Luna:** _ _(glaring) Without that overtime, no one would know you were doing much of ANYTHING, because I'd have no internet connection. -_-_

 _**Misty:** _ _(to Garrus, deliberately ignoring Teandra and Luna) I have a feeling I'm going to regret this, but okay. Fine. What do you choose?_

_(Garrus and Teandra share a glance. He tilts his head. She nods wickedly.)_

_**Garrus:**_ _(to Misty, mandibles flaring in amusement as he crosses his arms) Lamb_ of God - " _Laid to Rest."_

 _**Luna:** _ _(snorts) Hell, yeah! This one gets my vote._

 _**Misty:** _ _(glaring) I hate you all so much right now. (does headdesk)_

 _**Luna:** _ _(smirking) And now that we've broken my intrepid co-author, on with the story. ;)_

* * *

_I'll chain you to the truth_

_For the truth shall set you free_

_I'll turn the screws of vengeance_

_And bury you with honesty_

 

_I'll make all your dreams come to life_

_And slay them as quickly as they came_

_Smother another failure_

_Lay this to rest_

Lamb of God - " _Laid to Rest_ "

 

**Chapter 7 - The End Justifies the Means**

"We're a little exposed out here. Especially if anyone's in that elevator," Garrus said, popping a heatsink as he spoke and reloading without even looking down.

"I was just thinking the same thing myself, Garrus," I responded, doing the same.

"Well, there's no lack of cover," he replied unnecessarily, the sardonic flanging holding a note of amusement as he glanced pointedly at all the surrounding boxes, crates, and piles of metal beams.

_Goddamn, do all the bad guys shop at Crate & Barrel, or something? If I ever take Jack up on her offer to go pirate, do I need to set up a registry there, or can I just buy stuff off the shelf?_

We posted up behind the nearest cover, directly in front of the elevator, and waited.

Illium was... like a hybrid of the Citadel and Omega, with a little bit of Feros thrown in for good measure. (Though, thankfully, it was lacking in homicidal shrubbery.) In a way, it was like some of the poisonous insects of Earth's ever-disappearing terrestrial jungles: Beautiful, but deadly under the surface.

The number of familiar faces I'd run into since we'd made berth, however, was astounding. Positively astounding. I'd barely entered port when I ran into a messenger from the Rachni Queen herself, probably one of the stranger experiences of my life. Still, it was heartening to know that _someone_ was ready to back me up, even if it was a creepy giant bug thing. Noveria on my brain already from that encounter, it had taken almost no effort to recognize Gianna Parasini, or to bail her ass out again. And let's not forget Shiala, that asari the Thorian had taken such a liking to.

I really should have know better than to help an asari in any capacity, but what can I say? I'm bighearted. It's not that I mind gratitude or anything, but must they _all_ offer their thanks by trying to bed you? Garrus' comments about forgetting to take a particular t-shirt off didn't help my mood any, either. Had it been anyone else, I might have actually shot them. Smug bastard.

Still, all that running around had led us to Liara. Good on the one hand, because it was nice to see someone from the old team actually interested in helping. Crappy on the other, though, because now _she_ was even scarier than I was.

" _I'll make it simple. Either you pay me, or I'll flay you alive... with my mind."_

A couple of errands later, and I had my information about both Krios and the Justicar. I wish Liara and I could have talked a little longer, but it seemed she had her own life and her own things to do.

 _Just like everybody else_ , I thought with a sigh.

"Good old Nassana Dantius," I commented dryly. "Should have killed her when I had the chance."

"She was in the middle of the Citadel surrounded by witnesses," Garrus responded. "Even _you_ aren't that good. The only thing you you could have gotten away with was blackmailing her over killing her sister, and you succeeded in doing exactly that. She didn't try anything on that station ever again."

 _Nope, she just pulled up stakes and set up shop elsewhere._ Such _an improvement, that._

"Guess this Krios character will have to finish the job for us then..." With a ping, the elevator opened, cutting off whatever else I had planned to say. Three _very_ well armored, Eclipse soldiers, both with armament and tech, came through the now open doors. The two asari were tough, don't get me wrong, but as they fell all I could say was: "That krogan is a stone _bitch_. Garrus! Concussive round."

"Something addled your brains, little Spectre? Useless against barriers."

I shot a fireball, cursing. "Kasumi, any ideas?"

"Pound away at it 'til it dies?" She shot a burst of fire from her Shuriken in his direction, for emphasis.

"Wow, you always this helpful, 'Sumi?"

"Nope! Only for you, Shep."

"First Grunt fills my testosterone quota," I muttered under my breath, though not so low the comm wouldn't catch it, " and now you fill smart-ass quota."

"That's no mean feat," Garrus interjected, firing another three round burst that toppled our opponent. "I've been trying to peg that meter for years."

"That's not all you've been trying to peg, I hear," Kasumi laughed.

I glared at her, but Garrus only chuckled as he said, "You telling _all_ our dirty secrets now, Shepard?"

 _I_ decided to ignore them both in favor of gathering ammo. _Someone_ had to keep the supplies full, after all. We hit elevator once we were restocked, and silence ensued, giving me more time to think.

This whole mission, no this _dossier_ , bothered me. _A fucking assassin, Teandra? Just what you need around the ship..._ another reminder of the life I'd left behind. Of the woman I had been. Someone who saw the kill as a challenge instead of an atrocity.

I had Red under control; _finally_. She had already been fading into the background again, but had become nearly silent now, seemingly because of my afternoon with Garrus following Horizon. It might only be a matter of time until she popped up once more, but I was sure as hell going to enjoy it while it lasted.

He hadn't spoken about it again, after his abrupt departure, and I hadn't brought it up. Our next interaction had been as comfortable as always, no awkwardness; and while he was a good actor, he wasn't _that_ good. Because of that, I'd fought the urge to research his little cultural secret, deciding in the end that I really didn't want to know. If he'd pulled some damn Saffron-Firefly wedding dance shit on me, I just _didn't_ want it tainting the memory. And if it were something more innocent, I'd feel like an ass for doubting him. Regardless of whether there was some weird, secret meaning, though, the experience had reminded me with vivid clarity of who I'd been when I first met him. Before Cerberus had begun to tear me apart one little piece at at time. I felt _alive_ again, dammit, and there was no way in hell I was going to let that feeling fade away.

Or forget that Garrus had been the one to give it to me in the first place. It was time for me to admit that his part in my life might be something more special than I wanted it to be.

Okay, not _right then_ , as an elevator that could open up on an ambush was probably not the best place for that, but you get what I mean.

The elevator slowed, then stopped, and I readied my Mantis, unsure of what we would find on the other side of the door. I glanced at Garrus and Kasumi, noting they were doing the same. _Goddess, I love this team. I think we might_ actually _have a shot at this whole damn Collector thing._ The doors opened, and our trio quietly exited the lift, only to be greeted by an expansive window and a single human Eclipse merc talking on his radio.

"I haven't heard from teams 4 or 5… Don't worry. My team's always ready to go… I don't know where he is. Not yet… Don't worry about it. We don't need any reinforcements… I'll take care of it. It's under control… I'll go down there myself."

He was much too busy reassuring his higher ups to even hear us approaching. Complacency will get you killed, a lesson I had learned very early in my life.

A lesson he'd apparently skipped, in favor of perfecting Advanced Ass-Kissing.

"Turn around, very slowly." Kasumi pointed her Shuriken easily at the man, seemingly unconcerned with his close proximity to the window. Garrus did the same, but his Vindicator wasn't actually at the ready. Just showcased in his hands.

 _Great to know he believes I can take care of myself._ I snorted.

"Damn it," the merc said in irritation, putting both his hands into the air to signify his surrender. It was hard to read him, due to the helmet that covered his face, and not having access to the facial expressions so essential to my normal conversation tactics was a bit of a handicap. Then again, there's something to be said for old-fashioned kneecap-busting. I moved forward a bit, forcing our merc to back two steps closer to the window.

"Have you seen the assassin?" I asked. A very simple question to start, since I was apparently dealing with a brilliant criminal mind under that helmet.

"Why are you looking for him? You're not one of Nassana's mercs. Who are you?" A question to answer a question. Great. Deflection _always_ makes me pissy, since it's such an amateur tactic. If you're going to try to outmaneuver me, the least you can do is give it a real effort. Anything less, and I feel insulted.

I'm sure you know by now what happens when I feel insulted. 

Taking another step forward, again making the man back up a little further, I tried again. "Answer my questions and I'll let you go." He backed up a little further, his back hitting the _very_ high window with a soft _tink_.

"Look, girl. Even if I knew where he was I wouldn't tell you." I heard an intake of breath from Kasumi, possibly at my facial expression at his challenge. Red might have been my inner bitch, but I wasn't exactly a nice girl without her, either. I leaned in until my face was only inches from his, choosing threat over seduction in this case _just_ because he'd pissed me off.

"Not the answer I was looking for. Care to try again?"

He crossed his arms, and I _really_ wished I could have seen his face. Would have made it much, much easier to interpret why he did it. Then, he said with forced bravado, "I've got nothing more to say to you." You could hear the fear in his voice, clear and genuine, which almost made me admire his loyalty in the face of it.  But I was also struck with a familiar hint of glee at the idea of just giving him one good shove, forcing him to take the express elevator down instead of the more snail-like contraption behind us. 

An emotion that only got stronger as he went on in a cocky tone, "If you shoot me, my team's right through there. They'll be all over you."

I felt my hands ball into fists. There'd be no witnesses, so no reason not to push him, but... that wasn't who I was. Wasn't who I _wanted_ to be.

Besides, there _would_ be witnesses. Two, to be exact.

"Is a little information really worth dying over? Is Nassana?" I whispered quietly, pointing out the obvious, reverting to my more peaceful tactics with a sigh.

He seemed to consider this a little more closely, before conceding. "No, I suppose not." I smiled, backing off a fraction as he continued, "Okay, look. Last I heard, the assassin was down on the mezzanine. But the teams on the bridge think _they_ might have spotted him. Nobody knows for sure." I raised an eyebrow, considering the truth in his words before deciding it didn't matter. I wasn't going to kill him, and we could outshoot him if we needed to, anyway.

"Get out of here." He all but ran from us, only looking back once to make sure we didn't have a gun at his back. I almost smiled at the absurdity of the whole thing, that I'd let him go only to shoot him anyway. Some people might, I guess, but nice girl or not I'd never been one to break my word.

 _Hell, keep this up and maybe you'll actually_ earn _that hero title they keep trying to pin on you._

"He owes you one," Garrus said, interrupting my thoughts as he looked at me in surprise. "Anybody else would have killed him."

I shrugged. "Well, I'm not just anybody, right?"

He tilted his head at me, considering my expression for a second, before finally nodding in approval.

The effect of that expression was an idiotic grin on my part, one it seemed I couldn't keep off my face around him anymore. Still, I considered it no harm, no foul... until I saw the look Kasumi was sporting. She was wearing that sly and knowing smirk again, the same one she'd had during our conversation about 'marks.' I narrowed my eyes at her and got back down to business before she could share anything disastrous from that afternoon.

Sending her and Garrus to the left of the elevator we'd entered while I took the right, we worked our way through Eclipse and mechs, servicing the targets with little difficulty. The only distraction was another group of salarians our mysterious assassin had trapped. I couldn't stop talking about it as we started working our way across a bridge, still fighting.

"Fucker pulled a _gun_ on me. Feel sorry for him, but dammit, I nearly fucking _shot_ him..." I trailed off as I fired another round from the Mantis almost absently, "Still, that was a hell of a shot our assassin pulled off."

"A perfect headshot with no collateral damage? I'm impressed, anyway," Garrus replied.

"I'm telling you, if I didn't know better, I'd think Cerberus was catering to me with all the snipers. First you, then Zaeed, now Krios."

"Aw, what's wrong, little Spectre? Feeling threatened?" He fired a round at one of the turrets attacking us, causing it to explode, "I promise I won't leave you for the next pretty girl with an HMWSR we come across."

I gasped sharply at his statement, causing me to jerk the trigger and miss the target. I cursed, saying, "Dammit, Vakarian..."

He just snorted as he fired without hesitation, taking down the target I'd missed.

"The wind threw off my trajectory," I improvised, a story neither of my companions bought.

"Ri-ight," Garrus said, in unison with Kasumi's amused, "Sure it did."

I shot a fireball at the other turret, clearing our path, saying, "That's it. I'm _not_ taking you two on missions at the same time anymore. Thieves and cops... banes of my existence," as we made our way up the stairs.

There was one centurion in hiding at the top, pretty easily dispatched once our whole trio was there. No sooner had I hit the asari with a fireball to drop the her shields than Kasumi's cloaked form materialized behind her, dropping the woman with a laugh.

"Hey Shepard. I like this girl. Can we keep her?" Garrus said dryly as I hacked the door the guard had been so intent to keep us away from. With good reason, since behind it lay the very woman responsible for all the carnage we'd witnessed.

Nassana Dantius. I remembered her well enough. Enough to recall that she'd been my Irene Adler, playing me for a fool and tricking me into murder. She had been cool, calm, a politician and such a well-trained liar that even _I_ hadn't caught onto her bullshit. So to see that collected demeanor absent in the woman pacing restlessly back and forth in front of us was more than a little gratifying, if I were to be honest. She seemed genuinely surprised to see us, which, in turn, surprised _me_. As we walked forward into the room, her knowing blue eyes flicking from me to my companions, all she managed to say was:

"Shepard... but, you're dead."

"I got better," I answered sarcastically, taking a few more steps forward as her commandos resettled their stances with their weapons more fully focused on me.

"And now you're here to kill me," Nassana declared. I couldn't help but scoff at that. If I'd wanted her dead, she'd already have been there. I'd have had Garrus snipe her from out the window, or had Kasumi cloak before we entered the room. Or hell, just thrown up a barrier and shot her, depending on my team to take out the others. But I didn't believe in useless revenge, and killing her was all that would have been.

"You're really paranoid, aren't you?" I said back with more than a little condescension, something it seemed Nassana wasn't willing to let pass without comment.

"Don't patronize me, Shepard."

I rolled my eyes at her current lack of tact, "Charming as ever, I see."

"I'm sure you find this all very ironic. First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me..."

"Coincidental." I interrupted, almost giggling as I heard Garrus snort beside me.

"Excuse me?" Nassana asked, brows pinching in confusion. I fought the urge to laugh all over again at the complete ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"It's coincidental, not ironic, because irony implies you wouldn't think I'd be here to kill you. Since you obviously do, it's not ironic. It's coincidental."

She apparently decided that answering me would only give me an opening to tease her further, because she ignored that comment in favor of our original topic of conversation. "Well, you made it this far. So now what?"

"You really do think I'm here to kill you, don't you?" My head tilted to the side as I watched her face. She really _was_ afraid of us, though not nearly as afraid as she should have been if she truly thought we were the assassination team.  She'd been privy to the smoking ruin of dead bodies her sister's base had become, so she really should have known better.  We'd have come in guns blazing if she were our target.

"Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Decimating my security?"

"I was PMS-ing?" When she didn't seem to buy that explanation, her expression never even wavering, I rolled my eyes and settled on the truth. "I'm just looking for someone."

"You expect me to believe that?" I just looked at her, arms crossed with my hand cannon held lightly in one hand, eyebrow raised. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price. We can make this problem go away." There was a banging noise above us, followed a second later by a single click over the comm: Garrus letting me know he'd heard it too. It had to be our guy, infiltrating the place through the air ducts. It's how _I_ would have done it, anyway.

It seemed that neither the security personnel or our assassin's quarry had heard, however; and _I_ wasn't going to enlighten them. "All the credits in the world won't make this problem go away, Nassana."

"Who the hell gave _you_ the right to play god?" the woman asked angrily, gesturing towards me with murder in her eyes. "I may not be perfect, but look at you. We both kill people for money, what's the difference?"

"I have class?" I returned, hearing another noise above us, soon confirmed by my turian partner. _Time to keep her distracted,_ I decided. _Should give him an opening to make his move, whatever it may be._

"You kill people because you think they're beneath you; they're in your way. I kill people because they leave me no choice." Okay, so not technically true, but who said monologuing should be true? No one ever told the movie badguys that, anyway; I felt justified.

"You've got a choice. You don't have to do this. I can tell you..." This time she was interrupted by a much louder thump, and a panicked look from one of her entourage as they all began to sweep the room with their rifles suspiciously. Thing is, Nassana had never been one to take anything but credits or political power seriously; including her own security detail, in this case.

So her only response to her soldiers (correct) instincts was to fire an emphatic and impatient, " _What?"_ at the nearest one.

"I heard something," she stated matter-of-factly, allowing none of her fear to show. _See, if Nassana trusts that woman to keep that one safe, she may have a shot._

But of course, she didn't. Idiot.

"Damn it. Check the other entrances." She ordered, motioning the woman to move left as her gaze frantically darted into the corners of the obviously empty room. Finally, they settled back on me, turning her anger there as she pointed emphatically in my direction, "You... stay put..."

Her attention _really_ should have stayed on the room, because then maybe she'd have noticed the bit of shadow that dropped from the ceiling tile above her. As it was, she continued to speak as he landed easily, "When I finish dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to..." Finally, she seemed to sense that all was not right, turning as she asked in complete confusion. "Who...?

The man didn't answer, instead becoming a blur of motion as he went into action. With three deft movements, the man I could only assume was Thane Krios snapped the neck of one man, crushed the windpipe of another with a single fist to the throat, then pulled his pistol with one swift motion only to practically fire it from the hip into the chest of the asari commando. The last body was still almost upright as he whirled, grabbing Nassana Dantius' hand and bringing her gently into his Predator. An electronic whine signaled the weapon's next shot, giving the target a millisecond to tense before the drell fired a single round through her stomach. Cradling her gently behind the head, he lay her back easily across the desk, folding her hands over her chest as if she were his lover instead of his victim. Staring at her sadly, he folded his own hands in turn, bowing his head in a way that was completely incongruous with his surroundings.

"Wow, you really know how to make an entrance," Garrus said dryly. The assassin ignored him.

I could only stare at him for a moment, completely disoriented by the display, before saying the only thing my brain would produce. "I was hoping to talk to you." _There you go. State the obvious. Let him know how much his little show intimidated you. You're getting to be about as bad as Garrus._

Yet, if he noticed, he was very good at hiding it. I'd never met a drell before, so any skills I had at reading people were useless when applied to this situation. Still, he seemed very patient, if sorrowful, as he responded, "I apologize, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken." There was a strange flanging to his voice, similar to Garrus', but this one set me on edge. Still, not trusting my instincts yet, I decided to stick with truthful replies for now.

"Do you really think she deserves it?" My own bias aside, I was curious how this man could justify praying for the monster he'd just slain. His face contorted slightly at my words, in an expression not unlike one of human guilt.

But all he said was, "Not for her. For me." I tilted my head, unsure of what to make of him. He dropped his hands, holstering his weapon as he moved around the desk, speaking all the while and gaze never leaving me. His eyes were a reflective black, like onyx, and absolutely indecipherable. His clothing was obviously chosen for easy movement, a form-fitting leather not unlike my own sneak suit, though much more fashion-forward. He moved with an easy grace, completely unconcerned by our trio, or the weapons we all pointed in his direction.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for example," he gestured at me with one hand as he took another slow step forward, eyes still trained on me unblinking. I resisted the urge to back away, but only just. "All this destruction. Chaos. I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me." We walked past me, finally glancing at Kasumi before stopping in front of Garrus' sights, the turian's Incisor held rock steady. "Well... here I am." His words actually held a note of laughter. Almost like Finch when he was observing a potential adversary. It was then that I realized _why_ he made me so jumpy.

When faced with a man such as this, my own skills paled by comparison, like a child playing doctor next to their surgeon father. It was immediately obvious that this was not the cocky, heartless killer I had assumed he would be. Regardless of who he reminded me of, though, there was a... serenity about him, but also a heavy guilt that was almost as obvious as his other, much more deadly attributes. I was a manipulator by choice; this man _breathed_ the ability. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I feared him more than anyone I'd ever met in my life... and that he would see it in an instant. There was no way I'd be able to hide it from him, no matter how hard I tried.

I could only hope he wouldn't use it against me until I had a chance to study him more closely; that was my only salvation. I holstered my weapon, knowing it would do me no good if he chose to end my life. Kasumi followed suit, but not Garrus. His hand shook ever so slightly, and he was obviously worried by my close proximity to the assassin. But, as he seemed in control of himself, I didn't comment. In a way, it was comforting to know he had my back, just like always.

"I _do_ want to talk to you, but how did you know I was here?" I wasn't sure I actually cared, but it was buying me time to regain my composure. Time I desperately needed, though only someone as well trained as Thane (or as close to me as Garrus) would ever know.

"Gunfire and explosions. I prefer to work quietly. If I have to fight through guards, I made a mistake. I _rarely_ make mistakes." There was a disapproval to his voice that immediately made me want to snap out an apology. I resisted the instinct, but hated him for dragging me right back into the responses I would have given my old mentor. Even dead, I couldn't get that man out of my head.

"You disrupted my plan," Krios went on, "but your distraction eventually proved valuable."

"You used me so you could kill her. I'd say I was insulted, but honestly I'm just impressed."

He turned away from Garrus' rifle, facing me once again as he responded, " _I_ needed a diversion. _You_ needed to speak with me. You certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain, so what would you like to discuss?"

I quietly noted that my partner had decided his weapon was useless as a threatening gesture, since he finally holstered it.  It gave me a shot of confidence, knowing Garrus' instincts told him we weren't in immediate danger.

"Someone's been abducting entire human colonies. We're going to stop them." As I spoke, Krios walked back towards the window, gazing out over Illium as the sun set behind its vast expanse. "We already know the culprits: A race called the Collectors."

He bowed his head, hands clasped behind his back, before turning to face us. "I've heard of them." He looked up, his eyes once again boring into me as he spoke, "Attacking the Collectors will require passing through the Omega-4 Relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

Now that the desk was back between us, I had a small (if most likely false) sense of security, and therefore was able to put a little more pride behind my words as I retorted, "They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, too."

His face, for some unknown reason, seemed to soften somewhat at that statement. "A fair point," he conceded, "You've built a career on performing the impossible." He turned back to the window , and encouraged by his slumped shoulders _and_ determined to face this whole damn situation like the warrior I was, I stepped up beside him. He bowed his head again, taking a deep breath and letting it out, closing his eyes as he did so. When he finally looked back up, for just a moment I caught sight of the orbs that lay below the glasslike covering, eyes that were very human among all that alienness. Then, the onyx skin returned as he said wearily, "This was to be my last job. I'm dying."

My head snapped up fully at those words, staring at the back of his head as if I could decipher his revelations a little more fully. I mean, what the hell  _can_ you say to a statement like that? 'I'm sorry' or 'Don't you have better things to do than go traipsing around the galaxy?' didn't seem to be nearly strong enough sentiments. 

As if sensing my trepidation, he went on, "Low survival odds don't concern me; the abduction of your colonists does."

Finally, I worked up the ability to speak, settling for, "I hadn't heard that. Is there anything I can do?" I felt like a complete bitch for the way I was reacting to him, since it wasn't his fault he reminded me of my old 'teacher.'  Even a casual observation made it obvious the two men were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

The assassin was a study in contradiction, in multiple layers of self. To deny him and his considerable skills would be to prove that Finch really did create the person he'd struggled to, and that thought overcame the rest of my irrational fear. I refused to let my own hangups get in the way of adding such a great asset to our arsenal, no matter what the personal cost.

Apparently he agreed, if his words were any indication when he spoke again.

"Giving me this opportunity is enough," he replied, eyes still trained on the setting sun. "The universe is a dark place. I trying to make it a little brighter before I die." His shoulders went back, and he turned to me from his position less than a foot away, continuing, "Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough and they suffered. I must atone for that."

"Why? Why would _you_ have to atone for their deaths?" I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud till I'd said it; but the assassin only looked at me in contemplation, completely non-plussed. I felt like I was under examination, under a microscope, in the most uncomfortable of ways. Finally, scrutiny apparently satisfied, he said:

"I will work for you, Shepard. No charge," he held out his hand, a motion I imitated without hesitation, I was proud to say, his gloved hand warm even through the leather.

"We're headed back to the ship now, if you'd like to accompany us," Garrus commented, voicing his thoughts for only the second time since entering the room.

"No, thank you. I prefer to travel on my own, and have some things to gather before I meet you there." He walked towards the door Nassana's mercenary had been so intent on checking when he entered the room, only to turn back after two steps.

"It was irony, by the way," he said.

I tilted my head, an expression he matched until I finally asked, "How do you get that?"

"You did aid in her death. You weren't planning on doing so. So the outcome is unexpected, and therefore, ironic."

I looked back at Garrus and Kasumi, and I'm sure my face was saying something along the lines of, _Is this guy for_ _ **real**_ _?_ We wouldn't find out that day, though, because in the half-second it took me to turn back, he'd disappeared.

Thing was, I wasn't even surprised.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the ship. I'd hate to think what Jacob and Miranda will do if he shows up without us," Kasumi commented. I nodded, walking over to Nassana and snatching a keycard off her waist before making for her private elevator.

Once inside the glass box, I slid the keycard home, punched the button for the first level...

...and barely resisted the urge to slump to the floor in relief as my stomach continued to twist and turn into knots of self-loathing.

Watching Thane eliminate those men... had not been pleasant. It was _far_ too reminiscent of my own early days, my own work. Even so, it probably wouldn't have effected me at all, except for the fact that one of my kills had been plaguing my dreams for days. It hadn't been nearly as clean as the one I'd just witnessed; had almost _always_ haunted me, but was **worse** since that fateful first sparring match with Garrus on the SR1. He had never realized how close he'd come to dying that day, and I intended on keeping it that way. But keeping the secret made the memory harder to fight, even more difficult to stave off...

_Three. Three is such a small number. At least, when you think about things like days of food, or hours of sleep, or bullets in a gun._

_But human lives? Not so small; and the man whose room I now occupy is to be target number three._

_The easy part is over. I'd spent two weeks on recon for how to get into this bedroom with him. I've researched his preferences down to the last detail. My outfit is a modified, lowcut version of my sneak suit, artfully ripped and slashed to show skin without too much; dark fishnets peek out from the synthetic fiber only to end in black, thigh-high boots. His gothic clothing preferences were bad enough, but having to dye my hair blond was just annoying. It makes me want to make him suffer, but Finch wants him killed clean. Still, the time I spent casing him made the flirting and sashaying simple to accomplish. He knows me only as Jewel, what little he actually cares about my name, a ditz with a passion for alcohol and dancing. A girl who isn't afraid to touch an arm or a shoulder to get his full attention. She's_ exactly _his kind of girl, and yet he still held out for several days._

_Almost makes me respect him, though he's still going to die by my hands this night._

_My first two kills had been easy and simple endeavors, and I have no reason to believe this one will be any different. Men are_ so _easily manipulated, especially when you know their triggers, their desires. At first, I'd felt a need to struggle_ not _to use my skills in everyday life, until I'd realized that it didn't matter. Finch would rule Charleston when I was done, and he approved of me keeping my skills sharp with his boys. If_ he _didn't care, then I had no reason to hold back._

_The 25th Street Blades, that's what Hashim calls his gang. The reason for the violent moniker is evident by the decorations on his wall, knives and daggers of varying sizes and designs. One in particular, a throwing star displayed on a wooden plaque, catches my attention as I circle the room, checking for weapons as my host changes. The ones displayed are loose, easy to grab, and my estimation of his stupidity is increased._

I didn't even _need_ to bring my own weapon for this one. I could have just used his own against him.

_A whoosh behind me draws my gaze back there, the opening of the door as Hashim approaches. He is wearing nothing but a robe, albeit completely concealing, but not enough to disguise an almost dangerously muscled chest and arms. He is a handsome man, if nothing else, and if I have to fuck him before plunging my knife into him, it won't be a total loss._

" _Admiring my collection, I see."_

" _They're very beautiful," I coo, "but so bloody. Doesn't that scare you, being surrounded by so much..." I trail off, letting him take over the conversation as he approaches a champagne bottle chilling at his bar._

" _Violence?" He finishes, popping the cork expertly before pouring two glasses, gorgeous crystal things that almost sing under my hand as he passes me one. "I'm surrounded by bloodshed every day." He raises his own glass to his lips, and I do the same, imbibing nothing. He takes a delicate sip, swirling the liquid around in his mouth sensuously before continuing. I stifle the urge to roll my eyes at his seduction technique, well acted as it is._

" _This city is rotting, little by little, and if I can gain control of some of the less savory population then maybe I can save it. There's a government seat coming up in two years. I intend to have myself in a position to take it." His personality is... civil. I hate him for that, for thinking his methods are any better than my master's. Wresting control is a gift reserved for the strong, not the talkers and the politicians. I feel a sneer slip through my façade, but fortunately he is taking another drink at the time, draining his glass._

" _You would look_ so _wonderful on the vids. You're just_ so _charismatic..." I say, watching him smile at Jewel's innocent view on life. It seems to appeal to him, because he lightly takes my undrunk glass from my hand, setting the pair on the nearby counter as Jewel backs away from his intense gaze slightly. My back hits the bar after only a small step or so, and he reaches up to cup my face in one well-muscled palm. From this distance, his cologne is nearly stifling, though it's preferable to the smell of unwashed body that had come off my second victim by a long shot._

" _And_ _ **you**_ _are very beautiful, my dear. Your naiveté is refreshing... you almost glow with it." I stifle the urge to yawn, feigning a look of overwhelmed adoration as he watches me, his other hand reaching up to stroke my dyed locks. "Your eyes, they're so arresting... a most stunning blue..."_

 _Something in his face changes, something akin to lust, and all I can think is,_ Finally... If he hurries the hell up I might have time to get in at least _one_ fucking set of katas before crashing...

_He grabs my hair, spinning me until he has an arm around my throat, the hand that had cupped my face instead gripped into a fist._

Wow, didn't realize he was into the kinky shit. Finch owes me extra for this one.

_Still, I don't blow my cover, moving against him as if I'm enjoying the game until I hear the venom in his voice when he speaks again._

_Complacency will get you killed. That was the lesson I learned that day._

" _You little bitch..." He is strong, but only holds me subdued, so I don't respond yet. I only observe as best I can with his chest pressed against me, noting his breathing is growing more rapid. Even more sickening is the fact that his dick is pressed against me, becoming more insistent as he grips my throat tighter._

 **Really** owes me extra when I get back... like, 'new stilettos' extra.

" _You're Finch's whore, aren't you? What are they calling you now?" He tightens his arm a little more, shaking me as he speaks, and I act as if he's already cutting off my air supply. I still have the advantage. He wants information. I just want to smell his blood as it spills from him. I pretend to gasp harshly, and I'm not sure if his dick got harder because of my pain or because of his hand, working its way up my skirt as he holds me. He hisses across my ear._

" _The Red Widow... that was it. I should thank you. It's been a while since I've been able to do what I want to a little cunt like you." His hand is at my underwear now, and I jump slightly as his greasy hands try to make their way into territory I now have no intention of letting him touch. He laughs, gripping me tighter so I can't pull away. "I'm going to kill you, you little slut, and fuck you while I'm doing it. Give you a whole new definition for dual penetration..." He trails off as he starts to move for one his many displays. Then, as he's distracted, I make my move._

_Blurring into motion, I whirl away, breaking his hold easily at its weakest point. He abandons his attempts to get a weapon, lunging after me; grasps at my waist ineffectually, due to the very material that he had so admired earlier. He likes it because it has the appearance of lace; I like it because it's smooth as silk. His movements are sloppy, jerky, and he jumps forward to try to catch me. I sneer at his fumbling attempts at close-quarters combat, glad to finally be able to respond as I really want to._

_Dodging, I mount him from behind in a wicked pantomime of a child's piggyback, whispering, "Now who's fucked, asshole?" He freezes at the stilettos pressed into his throat on each side as I sit easily perched. "This little_ _ **game**_ _you've been playing with Charleston? Well, I have a message from Finch." Hashim's body is still, but releases some of his tension at my words. I'm not sure why, don't really care, but I can only assume he believes Finch's words are_ all _I'm supposed to deliver._

" _What's his message, Widow?"_

_I don't answer, only plunge the stilettos into his neck from either side, puncturing his carotid artery with well-trained precision. My feet drop to the floor only a second before the body does, still twitching involuntarily as he gasps out his last few breaths. The crimson wave of arterial spray splashes everywhere, and I revel in the hot scent for a moment before getting back to business. Casually, I lean down to wipe my weapons on his robe, whispering seductively in his ear as I do so._

" _The message?" I move, kneeling so I can look him in the eye, give myself the pleasure of watching the life drain from his body. I see my own maniacal grin reflected in his pupils, and it makes me want to laugh at the beauty of it, saying "The message is 'You lose, Hashim'" as the last shuddering breath flies from his lungs._

* * *

#####

* * *

"Shepard? You put my sister's safety on hold to deal with some guy trying to take over a bar?" Miranda asked in exasperation, staring at Shepard in disbelief.

"No," Teandra responded, "I put your mission on hold to deal with _Conrad Verner_. Guy is a nuisance, but he's _my_ nuisance, dammit, and he's always been a little trigger happy and easily duped."

"You're stalling, Shepard. You not only delayed with that, but also with that quarian indentured servant, then took the time to eavesdrop on some bachelor party..."

"That party was hilarious, though you're really going to have to explain this custom sometime, Shepard," I teased. "It seems to be one of humanity's more interesting ones."

"I'll do you one better. You ever get married, I'll throw you one. Might even jump out of a cake for you."

An over-exaggerated sigh caught our attention, causing both of us to turn to Miranda. We were standing at the bottom of the stairs outside the door to _Eternity_ , and I could tell from the look Teandra shot her that the redhead had finally had enough.

"Lawson, I strongly suggest you either get used to our banter, or learn to hide your reactions better. Do you really want us making fun of your genetically-perfect ass instead of everything else?" Shepard asked, and while there was irritation in her voice, there was also curiosity.

 _She's testing her,_ I thought. _Wonder if Miranda passes?_

"Sarcasm I can handle," the XO replied with no vehemence, but with a definite sense of urgency. "What I can't handle is you deciding these little errands are more important than Oriana."

Shepard stopped for a second, gauging Miranda before finally responding quietly, "Miranda, you **do** realize I've put _your_ little 'errand' before everyone else's on the ship, right? We came to Illium first, instead of going to get Tali, _because_ I was worried about your family. The _only_ reason I even went to pick up our assassin before taking care of this is because I wanted time for EDI to observe him without us present." She paused, considering her next words, before continuing, "As to taking care of all these little problems in the bar, did it _ever_ occur to you that any one of them could be working for your father? Or that making good with the owner and the bartender might garner us information? Specifically, if there have been inquiries into your sister's whereabouts?"

"Of course I did," Miranda answered, "I just honestly didn't think it would occur to _you_."

Shepard sighed, "Okay, look, we don't have time to talk about this here. Suffice it to say that just because you know my life story doesn't mean you know _me_. If you did, you would know that when it comes to family, everything gets dropped to deal with it. You're just _damn_ lucky I don't believe Tali's in real danger, because _that_ woman is like a sister to both myself and Vakarian." I crossed my arms, nodding in agreement as Teandra continued, "So please, erase your preconceptions, get your shit together, and maybe you and I can get this job done without any more confrontation. Okay?"

The frown fell from the biotic, to replaced by a look of consideration. "You really do want to look out for her, don't you?"

"Yes. So once we get inside, why don't you go meet your contact while I finish chatting up the bartender? Find out where we need to be to oversee the transfer of Oriana's family."

Miranda tilted her head, "Okay. I'll do that. Just please hurry, Shepard," she finished.

"I never do anything less," Teandra said as she turned away, moving back up the staircase with a purpose.

Our trio split off once we were inside, the Commander and I approaching the bar while Miranda made good on Shepard's order. The matriarch seemed to amuse Shepard, if nothing else.

"Hey Aethyta, headbutt any krogan lately?"

"Nah, too busy working the blue off my ass, babe. Can I get you anything? No sex. I just cleaned the bar."

I couldn't resist. I really couldn't, but I had only just opened my mouth when Shepard shot over her shoulder, "If I even _think_ I hear the words 'chick' or 't-shirt' out of you, I'm giving you the same treatment Kaidan got, _ben'jee."_

"What, before Ilos? I'm game." She shot me a look, causing me to throw my hands up placatingly.

"Fine, I'll be quiet while you put on your 'females-like-me blouse.'" I then proceeded to dodge as she tried to land a fist playfully on my chestplate.

"Wow, babe, you two should have a talk with that pair over there," the matriarch inserted, pointing to an otherwise indistinguishable turian and quarian.

"They weren't asking about that girl I mentioned, were they?" Shepard said, once again serious as she slid a credit chit of some denomination or another onto the bar. Aethyta pocketed it silently, saying, "Nope, but if there was ever duo that needed divine intervention, it's those two. They're in here seems like everyday, and it only takes five seconds listening to the two of them to figure out what they're all about." She grabbed a rag, wiping at the bar absently as she continued to speak, only occasionally stopping to make some drink or other for customers that wandered up.

"Well, you've got my messaging address along with that tip. Run across anything interesting, there's more in it for you."

"You got it, babe."

"Hey, I spent time as a bartender once, for a cover. Your work's even more dangerous than mine."

"You got that right. Watch yourself out there, anyway." We walked away a few steps, letting the matriarch get back to her customers. Teandra shot me a glance, both eyebrows half-raised, muttering, "Mingle and observe?"

I nodded, settling on a topic of conversation as we made our way to the corner across from where Miranda was getting her contact's attention. We sat caddy-corner, my arm laid casually behind her as if we were just a regular couple of bar-goers as I started talking, watching the bar's occupants all the while. "A bartender, Shep? Really?"

"Hey, you don't have to _drink_ to do it. It's not much different that running intel, actually. Learn your customers likes and dislikes, then take advantage of them to rob them blind."

"Was _everything_ about your childhood about running some game, Shepard? I've had crime bosses I've arrested with less extreme pasts than you."

"Yep, just about. But only after I was ten. Before that, life was almost happy, I'll have you know." She leaned in, laying her head on my chest as if we were exchanging sweet nothings instead of discussing murder and robbery.

"I don't think anyone would call living in some run-down building while you pick people's pockets to survive normal, Teandra."

"Who said anything about 'normal'? I said 'happy.' And you know what? Jackson and Elayne were better parents than most 'normal' parents I've known. We only stole enough to survive, never anything more. We were a family."

"Jackson was a good man," I said, trying not to show my surprise at her willingness to be so close. _It's for the cover. Keep that in mind. Couples draw less attention._

"I wish you could have met them, Garrus. Especially him. I think you two would have gotten along like old friends." She looked at me from her new position, face lighting up at the mention of her parents' names. "They were probably two of the few people in my life that were in it just because they wanted to be. No... games. No price for their affection." She sighed happily, snuggling in a little further as I lay the arm that was behind her across her shoulders and down her side in an attempt to cement our cover even more. _Ri-ight._

"And now, I've got one more person I can say that about, huh?"

"You know it, little Spectre." We sat there for a second, silence ensuing, until the words of a pair of nearby customers started to drift over us.

" _You deserve someone that respects you,_ " the turian half of the pair Aethyta had indicated earlier said. " _Somebody who's going to treat you right."_

"Wow, how many of those speeches have I heard in my lifetime," Shepard snorted. "Hell, how many have I _given_? People suck sometimes."

" _Oh, I think I'm going to just stop dating for a while,_ " the quarian returned, almost speaking before the turian finished his statement.

 _"No, don't do that,_ he said forcefully, " _don't let some human spoil you."_

She didn't seem to hear the poor guy, though, only rambling on over his words. " _It's always the same thing. 'Ooh, she could get sick. She's vulnerable. I wonder what she looks like under the helmet.'"_

 _"You'll find someone who cares about you for who you are,"_ he responded " _Someone who's food you can eat, even."_

Shepard and I shared a look of pure amusement at that last statement, doing our _very_ best not to bust out laughing. Her face scrunched up, taking on a slightly red tint as she tried not to betray our listening ears.

" _Verna._ Is she that oblivious?"

"Apparently. Makes me sad, truth be told... poor guy's in the dreaded friend zone."

In a rush, as if trying to get the words out before he could change his mind, the turian went on, " _If you're hunting for things to do, maybe after work we could catch a vid or something."_

 _"Oh, that's sweet, but I'm okay_ ," she replied, still overlooking the obvious. " _A little dry spell isn't going to kill me."_

 _"We could watch "Fleet and Flotilla,"_ he went on as if she hadn't spoken, probably an effect of nerves. " _It got awards for its portrayal of, um, turian-quarian relationships."_

"Wow. I thought my lines were good..." I said.

Shepard snorted. "Always keep me seduced, tough guy... wonder what she's going to do to deflect him?"

"Deflect him?"

"Yeah. She's either really stupid, and he could do better, or she's completely aware of the affect she's having, and had better get his attention derailed before the friendship falls apart."

_"If worst comes to worst, I did have that nerve-stimulation program built into my suit."_

_"And I hear that the love scenes... what?"_

"Oooh, that was evil, girl. You _never_ do that to a guy friend. Not unless you plan on having a few more 'benefits' added to your 'friendship.'"

"What, talk about sex?" I quipped, "You do that all the time."

"No, masturbation, you dolt," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "That totally crosses the line."

 _"Oh, yeah. Standard equipment for any responsible adult. Here, let me fire it up..."_ the quarian continued.

"...and _that_ is the equivalent of crossing that line so you can screw the guy's best friend on the other side... while they watch. Damn, girl."

"Wow, did she just..." I asked, at a loss for words.

"Yeah, _and_ she proved my point," Shepard laughed. "Now, see? If he would just step his efforts up a little bit, it might be him instead of some program."

Huffing, I said, "Step his efforts up? He's all but throwing himself at her _now_."

"True, but some girls aren't that subtle," she said. "Sometimes, you've just got to come out and say it." Her eyes were trying for innocent, and failing.

And you bet your _ass_ I took the bait.

"Oh, really now? So what, _exactly_ , would a guy have to do to make sure you knew you had his full attention?"

"Oh, I don't know... let me think. Physical touch is a good start. Gets a girls hormones going."

"Okay," I said, running a talon up and down her side. "Let say he's got that covered. What else?" She giggled slightly before regaining her composure.

"Careful, there. I'm freaking uber-ticklish."

"Ticklish?" I asked, confused. "Not sure that translated."

She stopped for a minute, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's kind of like... bugs crawling across your skin, or a sort of itch, but in a weirdly happy way. It makes you laugh when someone touches you in a sensitive spot, and releases bonding endorphins..." I continued to look at her strangely, so she said, "Here, take your glove off a minute."

I did so, asking, "Why?" as she grabbed my hand, grinning mildly.

"Don't even know if turians _have_ the ability to be ticklish; but if you are, your palms will be the easiest to access right now." She held my hand up, tracing lightly along the softer skin with her fingernails for a moment. I did feel something, a slight tracery of strangeness, but nothing like what she was describing. I shook my head.

"Oh well," she said, not relinquishing my hand. "Suffice it to say that it's somewhere between fun and annoying. So tread lightly when in a ticklish spot, or you might get punched..." I nodded, trying to look serious, and probably failing miserably.

Still tracing lightly across my palm, she went on, "As to what else you need to do to let her know you're interested... What is she passionate about? Who does she admire? What excites her? These are all questions that tell you about who she is... They also make gift giving a breeze."

"Gift giving, huh?"

"Always a plus. The phrase 'an unexpected gift at an unexpected time' comes to mind."

"What movie?"

" _Finding Forrester."_

"Not one I'm familiar with, and right now I'm much more interested in the other conversation. So... what's the rest? There's got to be more to it than that."

"Well, there's the most obvious thing," she said, looking up at me with pupils that had expanded to two black holes within the blue of her eyes, in spite of the bright lighting of the bar. "Talk to her about it. That's usually the biggest thing that every guy seems to overlook."

"So that's all it takes?" I said, going for a tone of disbelief. "Somehow, I find that difficult to believe. Some girls aren't that easy to get through to." She smiled at my words, and suddenly the game became a little more serious than either of us had probably intended. Neither of us was watching the bar anymore, our focus on each other when she finally responded

"You _just_ might be surprised, Garrus. Even the toughest girls have a weak spot somewhere."

Vaguely, in the background, I heard a commotion going on, but I found myself completely arrested by her eyes in a way that I could honestly say I never had before... except perhaps on the sparring mat. When it came to this girl, the things she was passionate about came to a very long list, and very similar to my own... including a love of danger, and a penchant for breaking all the rules. Looking at her, at that moment, it became very apparent that there seemed to be one more rule that she was intending to break.

And that was _just_ fine by me.

The commotion, which had been background noise before, grew louder, and both out gazes snapped over to the room where Miranda was supposed to be meeting her contact. The biotic exited a moment later, barely-schooled panic on her face. We both jumped to our feet, Shepard crossing the few steps easily as Miranda started speaking.

"It's Oriana. She may have been compromised. We need to go, _now_."

"Then why are we here talking?" I said, already knowing how Shepard felt about the matter. Shepard grabbed my hand, replacing my glove with deliberate movements as she shot me a look that made it _very_ clear our discussion wasn't over.

"Let's move," she said, and our life fell back into its cycle of repetition as the next disaster fell into our laps.

Not that I would have ever had it any other way.

* * *

"Goddamn, _another one..."_ Shepard announced as she, Thane, and I exited the shuttle pick up our Justicar. " _What_ is with the fucking vigilantes lately?" She stopped at a glare from me, muttering, "Uh, sorry Garrus. Forgot who I was talking to..."

I crossed my arms, saying, "And I was better at it than anyone else we've picked up so far. One more person isn't going to threaten my title."

"Not even a light-side Jedi? Ooh, that reminds me. Joker DID find a version of _Star Wars_ , but I'm holding out for him to find the 'Han-shot-first' version. I think you, of all people, will like that one better." She smirked as if the joke were hilarious, and I recognized it as the same one she'd given me while calling _Predator_ a misunderstood turian. As such, I ignored it in favor of taking in our surroundings.

Crime scenes have an... _atmosphere_ to them. Like a smell, or a taste to the air. A puzzle waiting to be solved, a criminal brought forth to face his misdeeds as a result of having the right eye to decipher the clues. I never would admit it to anybody, but _spirits_ I missed it. The thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of time well spent when you finally slapped the cuffs on the person responsible for it all... it called to me.

I may have hated the red tape that hobbled me from doing my job, but the cases themselves were a whole different story. Having the authority to help people's lives become a little brighter, a little safer, had never ceased to fill some empty part of me with pride. Maybe it's one of the things I got from my father, much as I hated to admit it. Almost as much as I hated admitting how many times I'd solved a case, only to wait fruitlessly for some message from him letting me know how well I'd done.

Fortunately, I'd outgrown that tendency.

We made our way into the nearby converted base of operations, and I let Shepard watch our intended detective while I took in the background chatter instead. The call lines were in full operation, it seemed, since snippets of the conversations on this end kept drifting my way.

" _So you say you say a quarian male leaving the scene... what's your name again, sir, for the reward? Jon Grissom..."_ the man's voice took on a wary tone, closely followed a muttered and exaggerated, " _Uh, yes sir. I'll be sure to transfer those credits ASAP ."_

And... _"No, ma'am. The situation is under control. The Justicar will not be staying for an extended period of time on Illium... oh, I see. Yes, ma'am. I'll be_ sure _to pass her the message."_

Or the detective that was going on in deadpan... _"Yes, sir. I appreciate the offer. No, I must advise you that this call is being monitored and recorded, and that threatening a public figure with bodily harm is a felony offense... Hello?"_

I couldn't help but snort, remembering. _Now, those days I_ _ **don't**_ _miss: Playing desk jockey to the crazies._ Forcefully, I brought my attention back to Shepard and the present conversation.

"My bosses want me to detain her," the detective, Anaya, was telling the Commander. _Detaining a Justicar... not a good ending, no matter_ how _you play it._ Shepard seemed to agree.

"Let me get this straight: Your superiors are sending you to certain death for no good reason? You have a right to disobey."

I guffawed, still managing to say without missing a beat, "Wait, we can disobey suicidal orders? Why wasn't I told?" I never would have expected it, but our quiet and serious drell companion was quick to join in on the good-natured ribbing.

"That's about twice a day," he commented. I shot him a look of confusion, considering his short time with the crew.

"Words gets around," he said, simply.

"What, the ship?"

"No. The galaxy."

We both looked back to Shepard at a thumping sound, caused by the impact of Teandra's head against the officer's desk. "That's it, I'm going solo from now on," she said in a muffled tone from her new position. "I can't deal with this pressure anymore."

"I do not believe that solo is the best way to deal with pressure, Commander Shepard," Thane intoned, still in a complete deadpan.

The second thump, I was proud to say, was even louder than the first one.


	9. Cauterize

_I don't wanna live_  
_I don't wanna breathe_  
_'less I feel you next to me_  
_You take the pain I feel_  
_Wakin' up to you never felt so real_

 _I don't wanna sleep_  
_I don't wanna dream_  
_Cause my dreams don't comfort me_  
_The way you make me feel_  
_Wakin' up to you never felt so real_

Skillet - " _Comatose_ " 

 

**Chapter 8- Cauterize**

"Launching probe," EDI informed me again, and I idly interrupted my perusal of my old contact list on the datapad in my hands to observe the main screen's report of resources found. A randomized playlist was wafting its way through the background, the last several selections having been everything from _Diamond of Shame_ to _Expel 10_. Without even bothering to take my feet down from the railing, I turned the chair slightly, pressing the button for another probe to launch as I turned my eyes back to their original task.

After two years, even the best of contact network is likely to fall apart from lack of upkeep. I may have had ten people who still would help me track down information without my C-Sec status to back me up, and of those there were only about three that might have the clearance and clout to find the information I needed on Sidonis. But I was a patient man. I'd find him eventually.

In the meanwhile, _why_ , do you ask, was I wasting my time on scanning every planet we ran by instead of the 50,000 other projects I had taken upon myself? Because while we hadn't really gotten a chance to discuss thing further after our fun in _Eternity_ , one thing she had said had stuck with me more than anything else.

_An unexpected gift at an unexpected time._

The way she had quoted it made it very clear that it was advice she was fond of giving, and that gave it credence. Considering her history with people in general, I doubted gifts of any kind were something she was used to receiving. The way she still mourned the loss of the chess set Anderson had given her, in spite of how mad she was at him at the moment, proved the point.

Most males, no matter the species, are daunted by the idea of coming up with gift ideas for the women in their life. Mothers, sisters, girlfriends, the file clerk at the office; doesn't matter. They all fear disappointing said women by giving them something stupid or inappropriate. I had no such dilemma. In fact, _my_ biggest problem had been narrowing down my options. Call it the advantage of shopping for the woman who could almost be my twin.

New rifle upgrades seemed rather cliché', and the more romantic options were out of the question even discounting the current ambiguous nature of our relationship. Once I thought about it, though, the answer became simple, brought on by the memory of a single afternoon.

_I come into her room, calling, "Shepard?" as I enter. She's even later than usual for our morning sparring match, and I decided to seek her out with my offer to cancel, rather than wait._

" _I'm in here," I hear her call from the open bathroom doorway, and I peek in. She is standing in front of her mirror in her sparring outfit, turning her head to and fro as she looks intently at the orangish-red cybernetics that wind their way across her cheeks. Her face holds a look somewhere between trepidation and irritation as she prods the still fading scars._

" _What's the matter, little Spectre?" I ask, wondering at the scene itself as much as her reactions._

" _Oh, nothing," she replies flippantly, expression not matching her words, "just seeing if my scars are more badass than yours."_

 _Ignoring the discrepancies in her behavior she's attempting to hide, simply because she_ is _trying to hide them, I respond, "No chance of that, Teandra. I have more you haven't seen."_

" _Exactly_ how _hung over do you think I was the morning after that party, Garrus? Trust me, I got an eyeful." The words were spoken absently as she traced one scar down below her collarbone, where it disappeared under her shirt only to reappear down her left arm. Watching her, I came to a completely startling revelation:_ The scars bothered her.

It shouldn't have been all that surprising, but I'd grown so used to thinking of her as a warrior over the years that it caught me off guard. I had taken my own latest round of injuries in stride, the traditions of my people having always given war wounds the respect of being considered a badge of honor. If gained in proper battle, they weren't something to be ashamed of, but something to be displayed with pride. Of the many things Teandra had always been to me, a soldier was always on the top of the list. I couldn't have felt the way I did about her if she wasn't. So the concept that she was susceptible to the average woman's vanity was not something I had ever thought about.

She had lived her entire life with looks that were considered not just pretty, but jaw-droppingly gorgeous among her own kind. This had always been quite apparent whenever we were around the human males we'd come across in our travels. She knew it, too, and used it to her advantage every chance she got. She wasn't necessarily proud of her looks, but was enough of a survivalist to realize they were a weapon she could use. This latest display made it obvious just how much she relied on said weapon, and was feeling its loss acutely.

I'd approached Chakwas for possible solutions, and she'd forwarded me a letter she said she'd already sent Shepard. 50,000 units of platinum. That was all it would take to requisition a machine to heal her scars. Yet, she'd never spend that much time, energy, or resources on herself when there was a ship to arm and armor, crew morale to boost, and missions to accomplish. Most of her time, nowadays, was spent getting to know her new crew-members better. Learning about their lives and motivations much as she'd done for the rest of us on the SR1. And already, they were learning of her open door policy, and requesting the great hero of the galaxy's assistance with their personal problems.

Which, on some level, truly made me wonder when I'd stopped thinking of her as such.

Regardless of when it had happened, though, I knew she would never even consider doing something so big for herself. Therefore, planet scanning had become my new favorite pastime. Though, if truth were to be told, it was kind of a nice break from some of the missions we'd been running.

I almost got where Miranda was coming from now. I mean, if no one else did, I completely understood the concept of not living up to an impossible father's standards. Of feeling more like a project than a beloved child. And she'd learned, the hard way, that keeping information from the Commander is a good way to blow a mission all to hell. Things like keeping the fact that her sister was a clone might not have changed Shepard's mind about the job, but it could have caused problems with the mission itself. If she managed to walk away with nothing but that lesson learned, it would all be worth it. Beyond that, I may have been wrong about being the most badass vigilante on the ship now. Samara was a force to be reckoned with, though I'm not sure I would call her actions reflections on personal justice. If anything, they seemed cold; compassion-less. I'm sure, somewhere, there was a reason behind each of the people she had hunted. I'm just not sure I wanted to know what it was. It might make me too uncomfortable with my own views on life.

Still, saving that cop's life had been an admirable endeavor, and clearing that last obstacle had freed us to go after Tali. I don't care _what_ Shepard had told Miranda, we were both worried about our young quarian. Something that had been validated when we hit Haestrom, only to find her pinned down by a spirits-damned geth _Colossus_. She always _had_ been prone to finding trouble, so I wasn't overly surprised. Yet, as it had fired a round at us, causing us all to hit the floor, all I could say was, " _Definitely_ like old times." A phrase Shepard seemed to be growing somewhat tired of, but she seemed to realize I wouldn't be repeating if I didn't mean it. I had missed having not just troops, but a partner I could depend on. It took battles from being only something to be proud of to something of another level: Something to strive towards, simply for the pleasure of succeeding at the impossible.

As I'd said before, I was guilty of many things, not the least of which was pride.

The _swish_ of the door brought my attention back to the present, revealing our newest addition. I grinned as she entered, idly pressing the button to launch another probe.

"Hey _Spi'rata._ "

"Hi, _Shira_. Was wondering if you were settled in yet. Figured I'd catch you in time to introduce you to Gardner."

"We have already been introduced, actually. Our resident engineers saw fit to give me a full tour. I think they just wanted to get away from the engine room for a while."

I gestured towards my cot, inviting her to sit as I continued to peruse the info on my datapad. "You're probably right about that, actually. They work almost non-stop most days. They'll certainly be glad to have another pair of hands to help with the workload."

"Well, working with them will not be all that different from normal," she said as she accepted the invitation, bracing her back against the metal wall. "They actually remind me of…"

"Me and Shepard. Don't I know it." I reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out two _bostarta_ bars and tossing her one before refocusing on the contact list once again.

"What are you doing?" Her tone indicated she was genuinely curious, so the intrusion was less grating than it would have been from anyone else.

"The question nowadays is what _aren't_ I doing. But right now? Contemplating blowing my brains out due to sheer boredom." I tapped another key on the main console, causing EDI to announce the launch of another probe.

There was a stiffening from my counterpart, then a muttered, "How can you be so comfortable working with an AI?"

"You get used to her."

" _It_. It is _not_ a 'her'."

"Tali, it's not that I don't see where you're coming from; just don't let Shepard hear you. She treats NnB here like part of the crew."

"So I have noticed," she paused, daintily removing the wrapper from her nutrient bar before asking, "Wait, what does NnB mean?"

I laughed. "Nuts 'n Bolts. I threatened to break her into her component parts when I first hit the ship and she started spouting her standard crap about Cerberus protocols. She and I have come to an understanding now though. Haven't we, EDI?"

"Agreed, Officer Vakarian, though I would appreciate it if you would cease with threatening to disassemble my hardware every time I ask a question."

"When those questions are _actually_ for Joker, and with the intent of being used to spy on the women's shower? Yeah, I'm going to threaten you both. That pregnant girl has enough problems as it is without his stupid hobbies." I ripped my own wrapper open with my teeth, casually munching on a corner.

"Well, I see Joker has not changed," Tali commented, "though I cannot say the same about you, if crew gossip is to be believed."

"Do I even _want_ to know what you mean by that?"

"Probably not," she said, casually breaking off an edge of her own bar and inserting it into her feeding tube. "But I am going to tell you anyway."

"In that case, I bet I can deduce at least a few."

"Okay."

"That I'm usurping the command of the XO Cerberus assigned, either with or without Shepard's support depending on the source and how enamored they are of Miranda and Teandra."

"Yep."

"That I have a tendency to, what's the human phrase for this one? 'Bury my nose' in everything that happens on the ship, with the purpose of watching over Shepard's welfare; though some claim it's a trick, and I'm a spy, though they don't say for whom."

"Two for two."

"That the ever-growing ground teams' competitive and unusual antics are what is keeping crew morale up on a daily basis, more specifically the antics of a human commander and her turian counterpart."

"Also correct."

"And that Shepard and I are sleeping together."

"I believe the phrasing that was used by Engineer Donnelly was, 'They're joined at the hip. And I mean that in every sense of the word.'"

I rolled my eyes. "Remind me to kick Ken's ass later. In the meanwhile, don't worry: All but the last is true. Well, except for the spy thing."

"Why would I be worried about the last one, _Spi'rata_? Or did you forget I was at _Lapsus,_ too?"

I sighed with exaggeration. "Tali, we didn't do anything that night."

"Wait, you mean you did not actually…"

"No." I said, probably more forcefully than was strictly necessary. Teandra wasn't the only one getting tired of repeated questions and exclamations.

"Then _why_ was I stuck listening to Joker's drivel all night? If I heard one more word about the _Normandy_ 's specs, as if I did not _know_ them in and out, I was going to punch him."

I laughed. "Oh, believe me. She _tried_. But neither one of us was free and clear enough to make a decision like that. And since she had tasked me with keeping her from doing anything stupid, I wasn't going to let it happen."

"No offense, Garrus, but you _really_ have got to learn to let yourself live a little. The average male would have had her bent over the nearest piece of furniture after her little show downstairs."

I nearly choked on what was left of my nutrient bar. Such language from someone I looked upon as a baby sister was not something I expected. Or wanted. "Thank you _so_ much for that mental image, Tal. You're a _real_ romantic."

She sat up a bit, her grin evident even through the translucent faceplate. "Hah! So you wanted to?"

I glared at her. "I'm not even going to honor that with a response. In fact, I think we need to discuss this guy of yours, instead."

"Who, Kal? He is just a friend."

"So there _is_ a guy, then?"

" _Garrus!_ That is not fair. Can you try _not_ playing cop with me for once?"

"I'm not. I'm playing older brother," I snickered, "Besides, you think I'm bad, just wait 'til Shepard finds out."

"She will be easy to deflect. I will just mention some obscure fact about turian culture and watch her go all contemplative and dreamy-eyed."

"You are _so_ funny. Just hilarious." I stopped for a minute, thinking about where I'd heard the name she'd mentioned. "Wait a second. Wasn't Kal'Reegar the name of that quarian marine on Haestrom?"

"And _that_ is my cue to run." And run she did, practically sprinting across the short distance to the exit in her hurry to get away before I could ask any more questions. In fact, I would almost venture to say that she was gone before the smirk even hit my face. I chuckled silently, tapping the button yet again:

"Launching probe."

* * *

"No. That can't be right. Do you think Cerberus would be willing to add to my cybernetics?"

"You'd let them experiment on you over a rifle?"

"No. I'd let them over _that_ rifle. She's beautiful."

The armory was a little crowded, the addition of the resident snipers an unusual occurrence. Even Zaeed had managed to drag himself up from the _Normandy's_ underbelly to check out the new specs, mostly because Teandra had threatened not to let him use it if he didn't. Something that it was quickly becoming apparent was a moot point anyway as the sheer power and kick of the gun would rip any one of our arms out of their sockets.

"All the girls we've been around and you cheat on me with a rifle?" Shepard scoffed, "What would Jerlah say?"

"Who's Jerlah?" Zaeed asked. "'Cause somehow I don't think messing around on that girl right there," he pointed in Shepard's general direction, "is a good idea. Good way to get a bullet to the back of the head."

She raised an eyebrow, responding, "Why would I waste a bullet on some cheating asshole? Fuck that. If I'm pissy enough to want some guy dead, you can bet your _ass_ I'm using a blade."

"So you can look 'em in the eyes while they bleed, eh? I rest my case," the mercenary replied. Thane just shook his head.

_You know, there is a sort of subtle irony to the fact that the assassin is the most morally-sound individual in this room right now..._

"I'm sorry, I just don't get it. The rifle naming thing..." Shepard said.

"You spend your life finding out your gun is more dependable than your girl, you would," Zaeed said, still eyeing the Widow with trepidation and admiration.

"I disagree. It is a sign of respect, in my case," Thane responded. "My way of honoring Irikah's memory."

"Well, it's a basic training tradition for me," I supplied, "We name our first rifle after someone we admire from turian literature or battle lore. Mine was Lorcana."

Zaeed's smart-ass question of, "Turians can read?" was drowned out by Shepard's own question, "Who's Lorcana?" She tilted her head, seeming to be interested in the tale.

"It's a long story, but the short version is simple: She was a turian warrior woman of legend, known for single-handedly destroying an army of thousands due to extraordinary tactics. Women like her are all over turian culture."

"Wait, why don't we see more around then, if they aren't homebound making little spiky kids?" Jacob asked, finally entering the room with a datapad in hand, supposedly holding the specs for the rifle we were all admiring.

"Fluffy," Teandra responded, drawing gazes from everyone in the room again, though all looked confused except me. _How did she... nevermind. I'm betting she talked to Tali._

"What's fluffy?" Jacob asked.

"Turian babies. They're fluffy, like goslings, when they're born. Eventually the fluff falls off. Try doing a little research every now and then, Taylor; especially before making boneheaded comments about women staying in the kitchen."

"I didn't..." he began.

"Forget it, Taylor. _I'm_ interested in hearing the answer to your question, if Vakarian feels like answering."

"Well," I said, "they tend to hold higher positions in the military, or run the individual clans in places like Palaven or Invictus. Bearing children _is_ important, but not their only function. Gestation only takes up about eight or so months, and really doesn't slow them down any."

"Damn, at eight months pregnant a human woman would be DYING. Overheating in 1.5 seconds and throwing up everything she ate 'cause there was no room for it _and_ the baby."

"As would a drell woman," Thane commented, "though their gestational period is slightly longer. More like an Earth year." Shepard cringed at the thought, something that would have been comical if she didn't seem genuinely distressed by the prospect.

"How do you go to battle like that?" I asked.

"You don't. You're useless for the nine months you're pregnant, for the most part. By the spirits, you aren't even supposed to lift more than twenty pounds." She looked at the Widow pointedly, "I'm _so_ never having kids." She stopped for a second, thinking, before going on, "So turian women aren't second-class-citizens then?"

It was my turn to look confused. "Second-class-citizens? You must be joking. Turian culture is based off merit, not gender. No one gives a shit what's beneath the plating, so long as you can do the job you're assigned."

"Human women have been fighting that battle for years, so don't look so surprised. You weren't there to see me about take that batarian's head off when we were trying to sign up to go after you on Omega." Her face held look of real violence for a moment before she continued. "That fucker had the gall to tell me the dancer tryouts were down the hall."

"How many dead?" I asked in mock horror.

"Oh, I didn't kill him. I just pulled out my pistol and offered to compare. Promised mine would be bigger."

"And there you have it. No real warrior's going to say shit like that," Zaeed said, "That's _another_ good way to get a bullet in your back. You should be watching her hands, not her tits."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "My, you are _so_ classy, Zaeed. Did you take lessons in it, or something?"

"You didn't hire me to be a goddamn babysitter to your feelings; you hired me to shoot a damn gun."

"Good point. Speaking of which, what you got for us, Jacob?"

"It's official. Outside of you, Shepard, no one on this vessel is going to be able to do anything with that rifle," he said from his workstation, bringing the specs up on the larger screen. "You're lucky you didn't do major damage to yourself on that Collector ship. If we hadn't given you all the enhancements we did..."

"Yeah, yeah, we already figured that out. So, what can we do about it?"

"Right now, not much. I'll experiment on it and see what I can do, but any tweaking is going to take away from its ability to penetrate both shields and armor with one shot. Care to give me a hand working on it, Vakarian? You seem to have a knack for this kind of thing."

"If it gets me closer to using it? You bet your ass."

Giggles from the room's only female interrupted us, and we all turned to face her once again. "Wait, you're going to give Jacob a 'hand' with his 'rifle' so it can 'penetrate better'? Something you two aren't telling me?" I strongly resisted the urge to bury my face in my palms, only being saved by Jacob's indignant sputtering. I was much too used to her antics to be surprised at anything she said.

However, even I had to gape when Thane decided to go with the joke. "I think my choice to isolate myself in Life Support was a wise one. It is very curious, that this should be an issue with both turian and human alike. I have no such need for assistance with my... gun." Shepard visibly started, but recovered almost instantly, laughing as another of our party chimed in.

"Hey, don't lump us all together, mate," Zaeed, said, smirking as he crossed his arms. "My gun works just fine."

Still chuckling, Teandra caressed the Widow lovingly, retorting, "Only 'fine?' That's too bad. But I'm sure you make up for it with other talents, Z."

"Oh, it works better than fine, girlie. But if my commander needs to inspect my weaponry for herself, I can hardly refuse a direct order, eh?"

"Sorry Zaeed, I don't have a strong enough scope for a proper inspection. Guess I'll just have to take your word for it." Instead of looking insulted, I'd almost have ventured to say that Zaeed looked impressed by her ability to retort.

 _There's that 'boys club' she was talking about. No wonder she was always so damn wary of conversations with me, and Wrex, when we first met._ Then again, she hadn't been all that careful around Kaidan... guess that proved another of my points about that kid.

"As amusing as this is, fellas (and lady), I have a _lot_ of work to get finished here. Can you move the tea party somewhere else?" Jacob said, turning his attention back to his work bench.

We nodded our agreement. "Meeting's over, guys. Soon as we get this girl up and running for general consumption, I'll let you guys know. In the meanwhile, we'll make do with what you're already using." Thane and Zaeed exited towards the CIC, still discussing the merits of the Viper versus the Incisor, as Shepard turned her attention back to Jacob for a second.

"Let me know if you make any progress, and if Vakarian and I can be of any assistance."

"Only if you promise not to sexually harass me in the process," he said a little petulantly, but was still smiling as he said it.

"Then you might as well leave the crew now, Taylor. It's like a reflex. Used to get me in trouble with the Alliance all the time. I got _so_ many NJP's for that crap in N-7, almost kept me from graduating.  And it DID keep me from getting promoted. Twice." She rolled her eyes, "But when you're surrounded by guys all day? It's either roll with the punches like I do, or kick their ass like Ashley did." _Well, that explained why my people's way of treating their women surprised her, anyway._

"And yet you give Miranda crap for the way she dresses?"

"No, I give Miranda crap for her arrogant attitude. She softens for half a second when those little self-confidence issues about her genetic modification come out, then goes all ice princess again. When she can accept that her skills are what _she_ makes of them, and stop going emo every time she talks about her enhancements, I'll back off. Simple as that."

"She's been that way a long time, Shepard."

Teandra's face seemed to lighten somewhat, and she moved around the table until there was no obstruction between them for a moment. Hopping up on the table, she leaned forward, seeming to consider her words more fully before she responded. "Jacob, it's obvious you two have some sort of history. So, I'll be frank with you: Sometimes, you just have to _'get'_ people to know how to handle them. In her case, from the few one-on-one discussions we've had, she's made it quite apparent that she admires how I've made a name for myself off of skills I earned. Skills that are quite similar to hers, except she doesn't feel she deserves them because they were scientifically granted.

"It's bullshit. I didn't earn my skills either; they were forced on me, as well. She and I are more alike than she'll ever know, even with her being privy to my history. Does she annoy me? Fuck yes. But she also is no more an ice princess than I am. Sometimes, it's better not to feel than to risk letting someone in. Just… don't give up on her. Persistence may do you more good than you know."

"She made it obvious where we stood, Shepard, and no amount of persistence will fix that."

"And I've done the same thing myself, more than once, in order to drive people away for their own damn good. Some were douchebags, some were good men, but all were at risk of me breaking their hearts if they stuck around." She paused for a second. "Breaking someone's heart, when it's something you're more scared of than anything else in the world? It's a form of cruelty."

"Right, since I forgot you don't do emotional attachments either, do you?" The dark-skinned man's eyes flicked to me for only a second, but that was all Shepard needed. She glanced back over her shoulder.

"Been giving manly advice on assertiveness again, Garrus?" She asked, though she didn't seem angry. But before I could even open my mouth to reply, Jacob did so for me.

"I asked, he answered. End of story."

"Well, now you have the rest of the answer. My heart has never belonged to anyone but me, my body to more men than your average guy wants to contemplate in a life partner. And besides, you're not my type: Too by-the-book _, since_ you asked. I will always respect that in a team-mate; sometimes in a lover; _never_ in a partner."

"So he said," Jacob commented, nodding in my direction, "but since it was simple curiosity..."

"No harm, no foul," I said, drawing another look from Shepard as she agreed. "Precisely. Glad we had this talk. That reminds me, there's someone else I need to have a little chat with. Catch you later." She hopped down, grabbing my arm as we moved towards the hallway that separated the armory and Mordin's lab. She steered me into the conference room, eyes narrowing as she signaled the door to close behind us. Turning, she crossed her arms, saying one little word: "Spill."

"You know, I think we've mentioned the whole 'vague reference' trick doesn't work with me. Let's try for something more specific."

"Oh, let me think. I got a message this morning. Would you like to know who from?"

Curiosity piqued, I said, "Please, enlighten me. Because I would _love_ to know what has you all fired up all of a sudden."

"I'll give you another clue: It was forwarded through Udina, who has spent most of my acquaintance giving me crap about how our friendship makes humanity look bad. It's from a mutual friend of ours."

I thought hard. I really did, but still couldn't fathom what the problem was. "Fine, I give up. Who was it?"

"Dr. Michel. She was _very_ eager to find you. Something you care to share with me?" I just stared at her in confusion until she clarified. "'Cause you don't usually gush this much about some guy who almost shot your head off, unless there is a history." She tapped at her omni-tool for a moment, right before mine pinged in turn. I opened the forwarded message.

_From: Dr. Chloe Michel_

_Dear Commander Shepard,_

_I was relieved to hear you were alive. I was devastated to hear of the destruction of the_ Normandy _, and those people who didn't make it off in time. After you went missing and were presumed dead, I feared I'd never see you or Garrus ever again. You and he did so much to help clean up the Wards when you were hunting for Saren. The galaxy needs more people like you, and I'm glad that you're still here to protect those of us who've grown to depend upon both of you._

_Is Garrus with you again, by any chance? After being so happy to hear about your survival, I wondered if perhaps he might have ended up with you. I left a few messages on his public accounts, but you know how he is about checking his mail, and I don't think the comm address I had for him works anymore, because he hasn't returned any calls. Always so busy on his grand crusades, his great passions, that he focuses on them to the exclusion of anything or anyone else._

_Anyway, if you know where he might be, I would really love to hear from him. Or both of you could come by next time you're near the Citadel._

_Thanks!_

_-Chloe Michel_

What I thought upon finishing the message, was, ' _Oh shit, this is_ not _good'._ Even without my training, or all of Shepard's vids, the repetitive use of my name within the message coupled with the thinly disguised request for my whereabouts was very telling. Thing was, there had never been a damn thing between Doctor Michel and I. She was a source, nothing else. That wasn't nearly as confusing, though, as Shepard's reaction to it. She shouldn't have been so angry over a message. It made me even more curious than the message itself had.

So, what I actually _said_ was, "What? I don't see anything wrong."

She gaped at me for a second, sputtering, before composing herself when she realized I was screwing with her. Once again crossing her arms under her breasts, she shook her head, saying, "Garrus, please don't play stupid with me. You're not suited to it."

"What do you think I'm going to say? You witnessed the most intimate thing I ever did for her: Save her life. Did you think I was going to reveal some hidden romance from my past? How many times do I have to point out humans aren't my thing..." I trailed off as the reason for her behavior hit me.

 _By the damn spirits, I don't believe I'm even_ thinking _this, but Teandra Shepard is jealous._

It was ludicrous, unthinkable. Though… on some level, it was kind of gratifying, to know that she felt strongly enough about whatever the hell we had to give a damn one way or the other. On the other, it was also obvious that this little issue wasn't all that was bothering her, and that she was having an extreme reaction. After our last little adventure, I could certainly understand why.

"Somehow, lately, that whole 'not into humans' bit has been a little... suspect." She paced the room, face contorted in something between consternation and anger. It was amazing, how well I had come to read human facial expressions over the course of the time I'd known her. She was attacking me, but that anger wasn't actually meant for me, if that makes any sense. Otherwise, we'd have been on the sparring mat, not in this room. I knew that well enough, too. _Time to point that out to her._

"You wanna talk about what really brought all this on? Because I rarely see you this agitated." She stopped, blue eyes trained on me expectantly, before I said, "The Collector Ship?" Letting out a sigh, she nodded.

"I'm not a big fan of humanity in general," she said with another shake of her head, "You know that. But the idea of them hitting Earth bothers me. It feels personal."

"Can't imagine why…"

"I mean, this _same_ ship has been following me around for two years, like Conrad Verner, only much less endearing. _Two fucking years_."

"You sure it's you? Not that I disagree, just..."

"Helping me reason it. I know. You do know how I work, don't you?" She resumed her pacing, saying, "They shot me down, hunted for my body for the whole time I was dead. At least, that's what Liara said."

"We already established that the Collectors are working for the Reapers while we were on Horizon, so that shouldn't be so surprising."

"The shooting down, no. The obsessive way they're hunting me and everything and everyone I care for, yes. You heard Harbinger: 'Preserve Shepard's body if necessary' and 'You cannot escape your destiny, Shepard'."

"So you're worried about why it's _you_ they're so focused on, right?"

"And humanity. We're babies in the galactic scene. Even the drell, who've only been in Citadel space for 200 years or so, have a more established place than us. But they attacked an _entire_ colony because Kaidan was there, since he was connected to me. Everyone else is in Citadel space, but what if they'd known you were on Omega? Would our favorite pirate queen have been forced into arms?" She paused, hopping up on the table as she buried her face in her hands while she muttered, "No, 'cause then they couldn't pretend they were only after human colonies."

"Which _is_ a good strategy, since they're outside of Citadel space. That means the council can turn a blind eye with no repercussions."

"Except my wrath," she commented absently before continuing, "But Earth? That's no defenseless colony, especially since the Reaper invasion. I've been reading the specs, Garrus. They've been adopting all the technology the Council won't touch, not to mention the fact that they've been caught experimenting with AI technology over and over. Outside of the Hierarchy, and I'd almost pit humanity next to them in this case, there is no worse species they could have picked to put on the chopping block."

"So why did they? The DNA similarities, maybe? Or some unfounded belief that humanity was a weak species?" I didn't see fit to mention that I had thought the same thing, myself, what seemed a lifetime ago. As far as galactic beliefs in general were concerned, if we all didn't stand up and admit that humanity was a force to be reckoned with, we were all going to be in trouble.

Okay, maybe not _me_ , but you know what I mean.

"Could be," she replied, smoothing her hair back as her face vacated her hands. "Maybe they need slaves with a certain code? Damn it, I'm _not_ a geneticist. And that would only explain my species, not _me_ , anyway. At least, wouldn't Cerberus have picked up on something like that, if I had something weird in my genetic makeup or something?" Her eyes turned up from the floor to me, questioning.

"Possibly," I replied, moving in front of her. "But would they have seen fit to tell you? To give you more information to use against them when you tell them to fuck off?"

"Probably not. They _did_ just send us into a trap unawares."

"Tell me about it," I snorted, "And here I thought I'd had my betrayal and attempted murder quota filled for this year..."

She laughed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. I let out a sigh, glad to finally break the mood she'd been in. It was always so strange to me, to see her bounce from idea to idea, each one making her doubt herself more and more.  But this wasn't the first time she'd felt comfortable enough to expose that weakness to me, and I was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"You worry too much, Shepard. Think too hard. You'll finish getting this team together, and we'll hit 'em where it hurts. I dare anyone to stop you."

"Garrus, is this your way of pulling out a good, old-fashioned 'it'll be all right?'"

"Well, I am a little better at it than Kaidan was…" I trailed off, realizing my error only seconds after she did.

Grinning triumphantly, she said with malicious glee, "I KNEW IT! I _knew_ Joker was spying on us that day. Knew it, knew it, knew it!"

I moved a little closer, placing a hand on the table on either side of her, encouraged by her lack of ire. "Was it really such a bad thing, that our favorite pilot interrupted you?"

"Garrus…"

"Well?"

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable talking about that with you."

I was taken aback, tilting my head.

"Since when have you _ever_ been unable to talk about anything with me?"

"You've never asked for details about my past lovers before. Hell, outside of the vids you've never even seemed interested in human mating customs. I find the thought a little…"

"Unnerving?"

"No, _intimidating._ Not even sure why, really."

"So, what's the answer then? Since we're not pretending Joker and I weren't watching, then I'll ask: Overly-romanticized vids aside, was the kiss that didn't happen such a bad thing to miss out on?"

"Since I usually pull a _Pretty Woman_? Not really."

" _Pretty Woman?_ "

She smiled slightly, " _Not_ one I've shown you, mostly because I find the main character too close to home some days. Essentially? The story is that of a prostitute hired by a very wealthy man to play the part of something similar to a Firefly companion for a week." She smiled a little wider, looking off into space as she told me the story. "Over the course of their week together, she learns about love, and he learns there is more to life than work. One of the things she reveals to him was that no matter how many men she sleeps with for money, she doesn't kiss them on the mouth. It keeps things impersonal for her.

"I saw that movie long before Finch got his hands on me, and I adopted a similar policy. Keeps a girl sane, knowing there is a part of herself she keeps held back, when it feels like nothing else in is her control."

I was quiet for several moments, mulling that over. Then, "How does the story end?"

"Much happier than _My Fair Lady_ , which has a similar plot. The movie version of that play gave us an ambiguous ending, open to interpretation. _Pretty Woman_ tried to feed us the same scenario. He loved her, but didn't want to admit they had something special; he was scared of changing his comfortable life on what he felt to be a gamble. He offered her a car, an apartment, and a spending allowance in order to get her off the streets and give her better options for her life. Her response? That she was waiting for her happy ending, her fairy-tale prince on a white horse, and wouldn't settle for anything less. She wanted all or nothing, and until he was willing to give that she wasn't backing down."

"I'm guessing, since this made it into the collection of movies that are worth a damn to you, that he relented in the end."

"Of course. Just because I think love and romance aren't meant for me doesn't mean that I don't admire an artist's way of portraying them."

"So, back to the original topic. Kissing Kaidan…"

"For a normal girl would have been her way of saying, 'I find you attractive.'"

"But for you would have been admitting you were considering him as something more."

"Yeah. Stupid Teandra. Thinking there was someone different out there. I get proven wrong every time. Makes more sense to keep my heart protected the more often it happens."

"Not all men are the same, little Spectre. I thought I'd proven that by now."

"You have, Garrus. Believe me, you have."

"Then why do you still hold back? I'm not sure I understand. I _want_ to, but I feel like I don't have all the information yet."

"You don't. I'm not sure I'm even willing to tell you everything. You've only scratched the surface of the girl I once was, _afeni_." I moved closer, embracing her as she looked away, then pulled back again so I could look her in the face.

"I'm not afraid. I'm a pretty tough guy. You might be surprised how much I can handle."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so tough when it comes to this kind of thing," she reached up, placing a hand on my injured cheek with enough force that I could feel it, even through the cybernetic plating. "I can't have you become like every other man, Garrus. I can't risk losing you. I know it hurts you, and is infinitely selfish, but it's been easier to pretend nothing is there than to risk the one person in this galaxy who's believed in me no matter what."

"I'm not going anywhere, Teandra. And since turians can't kiss, you don't have to worry about that either," I said with a sigh, drawing a laugh from her that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"You always know just what to say to make me feel better, don't you?"

"I'm sure I'll screw it up, eventually."

"So, if turians don't kiss," she asked rather sheepishly, "then how _do_ you show each other affection?"

I snickered softly, saying, "Promise not to kill me?"

"I promise not to do anything _permanent_."

"In my defense, we _have_ had this conversation before. The first time you showed me _The Princess Bride_ , actually."

She thought for a minute, eyebrows scrunching together in the cutest fashion, before reaching up to tap my forehead playfully with a small smile. "I thought _I_ was the thief, not you. You stole a kiss from me during that dance."

"You remember, then?"

"You said there was a vulnerable spot, and that it was a matter of trust to expose it to someone. I compared you to wolves. Which thinking about it now, was not a completely off comparison considering the way turians establish their pecking order…"

"You're rambling."

"You just basically admitted to being the first guy to get away with kissing me without my permission, and it makes me nervous. I'm allowed to ramble, damn it." She looked away for a second, her smile fading before finally reaching forward to push me away with both hands so she could stand.

"I'm going to mess this all up, Garrus," she said quietly. "I know I am. Anyone else and I wouldn't care. But you… I don't want to hurt you." She started towards the door.

"Teandra."

She stopped, turning back at the frame.

"The only way you could hurt me is to send me away from you. Other than that, I'll take whatever you offer, little Spectre."

She may have still left the room, but at least she was smiling when she did it.

* * *

#####

* * *

_If this is what blood relatives do to each other, I'm sure as hell glad I didn't have any,_ I thought as Grissom Academy faded into the background, the small planet the station orbited fading not long afterwards. _Better to have a chosen family that loved me than a biological one that used me._

I patted Joker on the shoulder absently as our prior docking choice faded away completely. "Blessed be, young David. May you find peace here that you have not been given elsewhere." The pilot shot me a look, but didn't comment on the rare, semi-religious display. I turned, moving towards the elevator quickly so as to avoid getting caught up in any conversations on the way. I had too much to think about at the moment to allow for interruption. Still, I dredged up the presence of mind to wave in Matthew's general direction, and to tell Kelly I'd take my messages upstairs. Once I entered the elevator though, I allowed myself to fall victim to my own morbid thoughts once again.

_Family. What a fucking concept._

I'd never been your standard orphan. At least, not in the sense that I obsessed over finding my birth family's extended relatives. My parents were dead, though how that had happened I'd never know, but I had always striven to make a family wherever the resources were available. While it seemed to be just as romanticized a concept as love or any other type of romance, it wasn't. Why? Because while there were picturesque versions of family life, complete with two-point-five kids and the family dog, they were usually exposed to be nothing but _boskaverna_ in the end.

Dysfunctional families, though? People who cared even when screwed up shit went down? That still seemed somewhat impossible, but much more believable. I'd seen it happen before. It was something worth striving for.

On the SR1, what had started as a simple attempt to solidify my command had quickly become more. By the time we'd gone after Saren for the last time, they'd all felt like family. Even Adams and Pressley, whom I didn't get to talk to nearly as much as I would have liked. Also, while a few had chosen to leave, Garrus and Wrex specifically, the ghost of their presence had made them feel like they were still there. Still part of the family.

I was slowly doing the same to this group, much to my chagrin. Learning about their families and hopes and dreams; about why they joined Cerberus in the first place. Even with our newest acquisitions, I was trying to find time to learn about what we needed to do to give them a sense of peace before we hit the Omega 4 relay. 'Cause once we hit that baby, there was no guarantee _any_ of us would be coming home.

Hell, even Miranda was starting to remind me of a bitchy older sister. Strangely enough, she probably got the surrogate family thing almost as well as I did. What had she said in regards to her father?

_As much as he tried to turn me into exactly what he wanted, I'm my own person._

Come to think of it, though, I'm sure Grunt would have said the same. And Tali; and Jacob; and Garrus; hell, and _me._

 _Wonder if it's too late to change the_ Normandy's _name to the_ SSV Daddy Issues. The sardonic thought made me snort.

I entered my room, tapping at the music interface as I passed to start a randomized song list. Immediately, I was greeted by the last song I would have expected: _Coming Undone_ , an almost metal song by one of my bands from old Earth. The theme of a person unraveling little by little was almost too perfect at the moment.

 _Note to self_ , I thought, _check to see if my playlists are influenced by EDI and her ever-growing sense of humor. Otherwise, this song choice is just weird._ I changed into my sparring shorts and the white tank top and sports bra I slept in, setting the alarm on my omni-tool reflexively.

 _No matter how many times I try, 0430 just doesn't ever happen._ I was rarely actually on time for Garrus' and my sparring matches, but I did _try_. Being half ready, so all I had to do was toss my tank top and run, increased the chances of me actually succeeding for a change exponentially.

Placing my 'tool on the bedside table, I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling for a second as I contemplated a conclusion to my thoughts. "Fuck it," I said finally, pulling the covers up to my chin as I did so. "Family is what you make it. Archer's just lucky I let him live, especially after he took a fucking _shot_ at me."

I guess speaking aloud must have given EDI permission to bug me or something, because no sooner had I finished than she inquired, "Commander Shepard?"

"Yes EDI? What's the matter?" I pulled the covers over my head petulantly, half expecting some report that Grunt and Jack were having another arm-wrestling contest in the galley.

No, really. I _wish_ I were kidding. Replacing that mess table had taken far longer than expected, too.

"I am unsure if the information is actually something you would wish brought to your attention, Commander. However, its nature seemed to make it something you would consider important."

I pulled the covers back, looking across the room at the platform whose sole purpose was to give our little blue friend a place to appear. The hesitation and lack of confidence were unusual for her, and it intrigued me. "Never be afraid to alert me, or any of the rest of the crew for that matter, to anything that you observe and feel would be of importance. You're part of the team, too, EDI. What's on your mind?"

When it comes to religion, or things like what constitutes a soul, I could debate both sides of the fence all day without a qualm. What I believed personally might even vary from day to day in that regard. But one thing I knew for sure: In my head, EDI was a person. She was _alive_. Besides, when the universe went to hell and got taken over by the machines, I wanted at least one of them on my side. I was _way_ past the chance to take the blue pill, after all.

"Officer Vakarian is still awake, which is unusual for his standard sleep routine. I believed that this would be of interest to you."

I sat up, perturbed, as I responded, "Not particularly. Why would you believe that, EDI?"

"He has been unsettled for the last three zulu hours," she replied, in a voice that sounded almost defensive, "His movements and adrenaline spikes are similar to the ones you display when your own sleep has been disturbed mid-cycle, as is frequently the case. Since you seek his company on those occasions if he is still awake, it is not much of a conjecture to believe he would wish for you to do the same for him."

I just stared, mouth half open, at the little blue orb.

I'm really not sure what shocked me more, the AI's observations of my sleep habits (and the nightmares that plagues me most nights), or the fact that she was able to discern that I would be concerned about Garrus experiencing something similar.

"EDI, did Joker tell you about any of this, or did you come up with it on your own?"

"Officer Moreau is asleep, and has currently left control of the ship to me."

So I thought. She was advancing emotionally at a rate that was almost astounding. Garrus had already shown me the safeguards that were in place to keep her from imitating creations like the AI we'd found on Earth's moon when chasing down Saren, so I saw no reason not to encourage her emotional development. In fact, I felt the opposite, since her ability to interact with organics in a believable way was _why_ I felt so strongly about her being a person.

"Alright, then. In that case, EDI, I'm going to give you assignments just like the rest of the crew. Though, I doubt the actual research will take you long to complete. One: Please continue to inform me of any other situations like this one, or any questions you have about organic interactions in general that your own research won't satisfy. Two: I want you to look up some of the more recent etiquette books, specifically ones that address things like privacy and personal space. If you're going to interact with all of us like an organic, then you're going to have to observe some of the same rules of common courtesy."

"Officer Moreau…"

"Is not the best teacher for that kind of thing. I'm aware of his little habit of passing the time by spying on all of us. I'm okay with it, because he's learned the cardinal rule: don't make it obvious. When it becomes blatant, there's an issue in my book. However, not every human on this ship will be quite so forgiving of the intrusion into their private lives."

"Understood, Shepard."

"Now, I need to go see Officer Vakarian."

* * *

#####

* * *

_I pound fruitlessly on the encrypted door, my physical efforts to no avail as I hear the retreating form of the Commander moving down the hallway on the other side. Whatever the hell has taken her over has done so with no difficulty whatsoever, and is now directing her to spirit's knows what doom. Screaming, I bring my omni-tool up, fighting against the ever-changing encryption the runaway AI is using in order to open the door that way, to no avail._

" _Calm down, my young friend," I hear the drell say from behind me, "have faith in her ability to survive. To look after herself."_

_I tune him out, once again banging on the door as if I can open it by sheer force of will. Somewhere, distantly, the very AI we're fighting against seems to feel my pain; I hear him scream the words, "Make it stop!"_

_My heart goes out to him, but I'll kill him if Shepard has even a hair out of place when I find her again._

If _I find her again._

I sat up on my cot, staring at nothing, as I tried to overcome the overwhelming sadness and clenching that gripped my gut. I'd been tossing and turning for the last three hours, unable to think, or even breathe at times, until I finally gave in. Staring at the undecorated walls of the forward batteries was preferable to the ceiling. The air was cool on my skin, and it brought me some relief from the almost feverish heat that filled me in spite of stripping down to just my shorts.

 _She's alive, Vakarian. She's still here. It's okay..._ but it wasn't. I'd convinced myself of that too many times after her death. Dreams had become reality, reality dreams. It was all too surreal, and my mind wouldn't accept that she hadn't left me again. That she wasn't dead in spite of all my promises and devotion.

She'd played the whole event at Aite, the so-called Project Overlord, off as nothing.  Hell, to her it probably was. But... I couldn't even tell her how devastating it was to me. She had no clue what her demise had done to me. What it had made me into. I couldn't, no _wouldn't,_ contemplate the man I'd become without her.

And yet, here I was again, trying to convince myself that she was alive. That a bullet to my brain wasn't the only solution to ending my pain and heartbreak. Because no matter what happened, whether we were ever a mated pair or just a pair of warriors saving the galaxy, life without her held no substance. It was empty, void... not worth living.

I couldn't even work up the energy to be ashamed at that thought... I buried my head in my hands, enjoying the small amount of soreness it gave on the right side, since it reminded me that life was beating in my veins. That if nothing else, I was still in control of whether or not I allowed it to continue to do so.

Ceasing that life was a prospect that held more and more appeal as my brain tried to convince me I'd lost her.

"Officer Vakarian?"

It took me a moment to work up the voice to reply, until finally I said, "What is it now, NnB?"

"Commander Shepard is outside your door, and states she will over-ride the lock if you do not open it."

I contemplated my current state, and decided that her seeing me like this was the last thing I wanted. She'd never forgive me for falling apart like this; she certainly never forgave herself.

"Double the encryption. Use that new coding I developed yesterday. Don't inform the Commander you've done so."

"As you ask, Officer Vakarian."

There was a frustrated bang, almost inaudible, on the door a few seconds later. Closely followed by a _whoosh_ as the door opened anyway in spite of all my efforts.

"Have you lost your damn mind, Vakarian? Locking me out when you _know_ I'm just as good at decryption as you..." She was in her standard bed outfit, a loose fitting cotton tank top and the shorts she'd wear to our sparring match in the morning. It was strange, though, to see her outside of her quarters in the outfit. _Why is she here, anyway..._

She stopped short as she saw me, though, interrupting both her speech and my train of thought. Without further preamble, she rushed forward, kneeling in front of my seated form as she peered up at me, trying to catch my eyes.

"What's wrong, Garrus. EDI said you'd been tossing and turning for hours." When I didn't answer, couldn't think of anything to say other than that I was going to disassemble that AI program at first light, she reached a hand up to lay it across one cheek. She pressed lightly on the mandible, turning my head to face her, but I still kept my eyes intently averted.

I couldn't answer her. If I did, I might say things, admit things, that would break us. Finally, I said the only thing I could.

"I'm fine, Teandra. Go back to bed, and tell that nosey AI to mind her own business."

"No, you're _not_ fine. You're hurting, and I want to know why." Her tone was caring, but harsh, and left no room for negotiations. It triggered the soldiers' response from me, and I answered before my logical brain could intervene.

"I thought I'd lost you again, Shepard. I _know_ you're right here, but I..." I stumbled for a minute, trying to put the completely mind-shattering emotion I now felt into such simple words.

"Garrus... _afeni..._ you can't place so much of your heart with me... you just can't..."

That made me angry, and I ran with that emotion, since it freed me from the one that had been pervading my consciousness when she walked in. I glared at her from the short space that separated us.

"Right. Since I forgot how easily _you_ let people go. Not all of us are built with tri-plated hearts, Spectre." She'd said goodbye to me at the Citadel with nary a sad look, barely any emotion at all, as if I meant nothing to her. I hadn't wanted to go; would have stayed in a heartbeat had she but asked. But she hadn't, instead seeming almost happy to have me gone.

"It wasn't easy, Garrus. The fact that I convinced you it was is a credit to my acting skills."

"You don't get it, do you? Losing you _broke_ something in me, woman. If you hadn't shown back up on that bridge... even if those mercenaries hadn't managed to kill me..."

"Don't Garrus. Just don't. I can't even _begin_ to contemplate that scenario right now. Please don't make me think about it, or relive it." There was a very real sorrow to her voice that she only used when talking about her ever present nightmares, but I shoved that away before I could consider it further.

" _Why?"_ I said, finally looking her in the face, "Why, Teandra? Why can't you make yourself think about life without me?"

"I... I..." Her lack of ability to form a complete thought on the matter confirmed what I had always believed.

"You can't even admit it, can you? Can't even say that you might actually care?"

"You know I do. There's never been a question. So why do I have to say it?" Her eyes were always arresting from this distance, but something about the tears that threatened to spill from them made it even harder to break my gaze from her own.

"Why _can't_ you say it?" I retorted.

She was quiet, no anger, only sadness at whatever my words invoked in her. "I've never said I could give you anything more. Not once. You can't ask for this, especially not now."

"I ask for _nothing,"_ I said back, matching her tone, "Never have I even hinted that I wanted anything more than what you were willing to give, have I?"

"No," she smiled slightly, "you don't. Not even when you should, as this whole situation proves." She held her breath for a minute, eyes moving away for a moment before coming back to my own purposefully. She reached up, stroking lightly along my fringe soothingly as she said, "So the question is, what do you need to help with this, Garrus? What can I do?"

Here it was. She'd either give in or leave me at the answer she was requesting. "You really want to know?"

She nodded.

"Stay with me tonight." She raised an eyebrow, and I charged on to explain before she could come to the wrong conclusion, "I... can't sleep, and holding you will let me know you're really here. That you're real."

"If that's all it is, I wish you'd called me hours ago." She stood, sitting next to me and taking my left hand in her own, studying it idly as she traced the sharp edges and plates with one finger. Then, just as deliberately, she slid it around her waist, scooting closer into my hold. I let out a shuddering breath.

"You're right, Garrus. You never ask, never say what you need. In a way, that's good when it comes to you and me; since we both know I respond _so_ well to demanding people, don't I?"

I pulled her into me, cradling her back to my chest for a second with both arms around her. When that wasn't enough contact to still my anxiety, I lay down with her snuggled in as tightly as I could manage without hurting her.

At the motion, something within me loosened, that life-stopping dread that was holding me prisoner. Let me go, as my arms encircled her, but not completely. I sighed, but didn't speak, worried that if I did it would break the moment and I'd wake up, alone with nothing but her memory all over again.

The sigh, though, came out with a noise almost akin to a sob, as I struggled to release the remaining grip of fear in my chest; the feeling that said everything since Omega was nothing but a lie; some elaborate continuation of my many dreams. _Teandra Shepard would never surrender in this way_ , it said, _never give in to emotion this fully._

She heard the sadness in that noise, and moved, turning to face me as I continued to hold her. Wrapping her arms around me in turn, she snuggled into my chest, making soothing sounds all the while. Quickly, though, the nature of her words changed, but I wasn't paying attention to anything except the almost physical need to mold our bodies together. Then, I'd know she wasn't a figment of my imagination. I wrapped a leg over her, burying my nose in her hair in an attempt to drown out everything else but her scent, her warmth.

Then, I realized what the new sound was.

She was singing, in that same off key voice I'd heard earlier that week. But this wasn't some hate song for a scorned lover. Instead, it was a ballad-like lullaby, the words washing over me as she sang softly.

 

_Keep me safe inside_

_Your arms like towers_

_Tower over me_

_'Cause we are broken_

_What must we do to restore_

_Our innocence_

_And oh, the promise we adored?_

_Give us life again_

_'Cause we just wanna be whole_

 

There, wrapped within her voice and her arms, my mind finally accepted that she was here. Or that it didn't care if it was a dream anymore. I drifted off to the music of her voice, praying that if she wasn't there when morning came, then I wouldn't have to be either.

The next day, at the light buzzing from my omnitool at 430, I reached over with a groan only to encounter soft, quite human skin for the second time in my life. I reached across, tapping the tool where it lay on the crate that served as my bedside table lightly, before wrapping my arm once again around my companion. She made a happy sound, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and looked up at me as she said, "Good morning, sunshine, how did you sleep?" I snorted, sighing happily, as she continued.

"See, this is _so_ much nicer than last time. _And_ I don't have to hit you in the gut for handcuffing me."

"Yeah, I appreciate that myself..."

"So, where are my favorite boxers at?"

"You mean the lightish-red sniper rifles? I can't wear them _every_ day. I did mention they get washed a lot, right?"

She paused for a minute, considering my words, before exclaiming, "Hold on, you finally watched _Red V. Blue_ , didn't you? Where in the hell did you find that show?"

"One of my team, actually ," I said, continuing smugly, "Found out what your little symbols meant, too."

"What? You read..."

" _Poison Study..._ uh, huh." I grinned at her obvious consternation.

"Where the hell... you weren't _supposed_ to ever find that one."

"I'll just have you know, I'm kind of insulted. You gave me the best friend lines, instead of the badass lover's ones?"

"You would have preferred, 'You've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood, and seized my heart?'"

"No, but only because I think _I_ should be Valek... wait, did you just quote that off the cuff?"

"Maybe..." she said a little sheepishly, burying her face against my chest so I couldn't see. I laughed, saying, "Thank you for proving that whole 'I don't have a romantic side' thing is _boskaverna."_

"Shut up, or I might have to move," she said into my chest.

"Idle threat, little Spectre. You're just as comfortable as I am right now." A chuckle was her only response, easily felt as it vibrated against plating and bare skin.

"True, but I will say that if we're going to make a habit of this, I'm getting you a softer blanket."

"Hey," I said, pretending to be insulted,"I've been working _gratis_ since we hit this vessel. My money from Omega only stretches so far, you know."

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?" she said playfully, sighing once again with contentment.

I grinned, and her breathing quickened slightly when she saw it. Looking down at her again, I said,

"Why, _planning_ on making this a habit, little Spectre?"

"You just never know, do you?"

"In that case, the question then becomes..." _what now._ That's what I was going to say. But again my omni-tool lit the dark and quiet room, this time with a flashing blue light. Teandra noticed, turning over to look.

"Priority message, right?" She said, scooting up so I could stand.

"Yeah," I said, "I wouldn't even answer, but..."

"Your mom. I know. Go on, Garrus. Get your ass over there and check it so you know she's alright."

I stood, moving to the console purposefully. I wasn't too worried, since Sol would have placed a call instead of a message if it were anything serious. As soon as I pulled the letter up, though, I knew this was a priority of a very different sort.

_Message: Eddie Lang_

I quickly scrolled the short note, turning back to Shepard slowly as I tapped the screen off. "NnB, lights. 40%."

She immediately sat up at my tone, saying, "What is it Garrus? What's happened?"

I looked at her, not really seeing her through the shocked and cold anger that hazed my vision, and said the only thing I could.

"It's Sidonis. I've found him."


	10. Dead Man Walking

_Flesh is burning, you can smell it in the air_

_'Cause men like you have such an easy soul to steal_

_So stand in line while they ink numbers in your head_

_You're now a slave until the end of time here_

_Nothing stops the madness turning, haunting, yearning, pull the trigger…_

Avenged Sevenfold – "Nightmare"

 

**Chapter 9- Dead Man Walking**

Sidonis.

Fuck me, but why did it have to be _now_ , at _this_ very second.

It's not as if Garrus and I weren't used to having our intimate moments interrupted, and I really do swear that the higher powers of the universe were using us as their personal comedy road tour some days. But this was just crossing the line completely. Garrus was just starting to become the man I'd known again; he was taking charge, taking control, happy with his life.

Yet, the almost instant change in his personality was enough to make me draw back in spite of our closeness during the night. From the moment his betrayer's name had fallen from his mouth, it was like I wasn't even there. Like _nothing_ was there but the idea of ending that man's life as quickly and painfully as possible.

I didn't like it; though at that particular point in time I couldn't pinpoint why, exactly, it bothered me so much.

"What's it say?" I said, struggling to keep my voice neutral as I kicked the blanket off of my legs reflexively.

"There's a forgery specialist on the Citadel. Name's Fade. He's an expert on helping people disappear. Sidonis was recently seen with him." He tensed, not looking at anything in particular, hands clenching the way they always did when he was too frustrated to think clearly. He did it everytime we talked about Castis, everytime we'd discussed his last few cases at C-Sec, and everytime we had danced around the topic of the man whose fate may now rest in my hands.

 _One thing was for sure,_ I thought, _We're at least going to have to check out the lead._

"EDI?" I called, "Is Officer Moreau back at the helm yet?"

"Yes, Shepard. He arrived only moments ago, and states he is still 'pre-coffee,' and would appreciate you waiting to tell him about any major disasters till later."

"Inform Joker that it is a simple course change. Make for the Citadel."

"Yes, Commander. Logging you out."

I stood, bare feet making no sound as I moved over to where Garrus had turned back to the console, bringing the message up on the larger screen. He was rereading it, and you could almost see his clinical, detective's mind attempting to decipher any hidden meaning behind the words. Finally, I watched as he typed in a response, sending the message immediately.

"All right, Garrus. Time for the full story," I said, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention more fully, bring him back to the present. "What happened with Sidonis? Specifically, how did he betray your team?"

He hesitated, as if determining how much I'd let him get away with, before finally turning. He looked at me, and the short physical distance between us was nothing compared to the now apparent mental one. I found, for the first time in my life, that maybe I could comprehend what had always seemed the irrational fear my fellow humans had for his species in general. Not that _I_ had anything to fear, but you could see the predator within him moving forward, a cold and calculating presence that watched the world with a wary eye. As an investigator, I'm sure it would have been more than enough to cow most suspects into submission with minimal effort.

Cops of the universe; that was how the Council treated their turian counterparts. I had always figured the war-like species was threatened by the way humanity was asserting itself, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe Shanxi really _had_ been as influential as everyone said. 'Cause if the first human scouting parties had been faced with turians with a similar demeanor, then you're damn right humanity probably retaliated with undue force.

He'd never been like this before I died, and that was something I couldn't overlook. His anger had always been hot and fiery; _rash_ as Papa Vakarian had always seen fit to remark, usually with disdain. It had never been as aloof and determined as the emotion he was showing now.

_Losing you broke something in me, woman._

That's what he had said, wasn't it? At the time, it had sounded like another of the overly-romanticized ideas he always held under that warrior's exterior; and exaggeration in the name of poeticism as he dealt the emotional prison he'd caged himself in. But I now realized that wasn't the case. He had meant it with a conviction I never could have imagined. What, exactly, had losing me done to him? What had it created in my stead, as he tried to take my place in the galaxy when everyone else had turned their back on him?

"Sidonis was my second in command when we first formed," Garrus said, finally looking me in the eye as he started to explain. It was a soldier's reflex, since in spite of our state of undress his delivery of the facts was just shy of an After Action Report. "Eventually, there were others better suited to the job, so I replaced him. I'm not sure why he felt his actions were necessary, but the fact is that he _did_ commit his betrayal. He tipped off the mercs, told them where our base was; information I had worked very hard to keep secret. He drew me out with a false job, then let the mercs hit my team. My soldiers weren't prepared. They tried to hold them off…" The clinical recitation of facts faltered for a moment, probably by a memory of one of his fallen comrades if my own experiences were any indication. "By the time I got back there were only two survivors. They didn't last long, no more than a few minutes. All ten of them, dead. Because of him."

_By the spirits, it sounds like he watched the last two die. Why hasn't he told me this yet?_

It was easy to answer my own question, though, wasn't it? _You didn't let him, because every time you started to talk about it you were more interested in lecturing him on what he should do instead of hearing his story. Why would he bother to tell you?_

"Why did he draw you away?" I asked, somewhat confused, and more than a little irritated with myself for not taking the time to deal with this sooner, "If you were the main target, it seems he would have drawn you into the ambush instead of the other way around."

"By the spirits, I have no damn clue," the soldier's demeanor broke almost completely, the back and forth discussions of strategy striking a chord in the friendship we both cherished. "Probably to isolate me. I took lessons from you in making my team my family, so having them die before taking me out was probably an attempt at breaking my resolve." He grinned evilly, "I guess I showed them. Now they're all too fragmented to do a damn thing on Omega anymore. Other powers will rise in their place, that's how criminals like that work, but at least they'll think twice."

With trepidation, already knowing the answer from his very posture and attitude, I asked quietly, "What are you planning to do when you find Sidonis?

He stopped, as if considering his wording, before responding, "You humans have a saying: 'An eye for an eye.' A life for a life. He owes me ten lives, and I plan to collect."

"You sure that's how you wanna play it?" I hadn't planned on saying anything, but the words slipped out before I realized it. The annoyed tenor of the statement seemed to be what he was waiting on, though, because he narrowed his eyes at me as he spoke again.

"Are we going to have a problem, Shepard? Your expertise and skills would be useful on this mission, but I _can_ do this on my own. Make no mistake."

I rolled my eyes. "You want to go run rampant on the Citadel without my Spectre status to cover your ass? Are you fucking insane? Sparatus will be frothing at the mouth to get to us as it is."

He raised an eyebrow ridge, considering, "Good point. I don't need you to agree with me, anyway, but I'd _like_ your help." There was a sarcasm to the emphasis on 'like', but nothing derogatory. More like the idea of me working with him on a mission of this nature amused him.

_He has to realize if I don't agree with him by the time we find that turian, I'll have to intervene. Maybe we're better off not even going…_

But no, I couldn't deny him this. Not after everything we'd been through together. I might not like it, but I was a little lacking on moral high ground after the way I'd handled Finch. I still might have to take the command road to stop him before the end, but I'd at least follow the rabbit hole to its end.

"Where do we find Fade?"

"I've arranged a meeting," he smiled at my brusque agreement, seeming truly pleased for the first time since he'd abandoned me in favor of the message, "We'll meet him in a warehouse near the Neon Markets, down on Zakera ward." He stopped, as if suddenly realizing _who_ he was talking to, and _how_ he'd been talking to her.

"Thanks, Shepard," he said, reaching up to lightly touch my hair, but the motion had the air of a farewell about it, "I appreciate you taking the time to help me."

"No thanks necessary; you know that," I said, disarmed and confused by the shifting personalities of the man in front of me. He dropped his hand without a word, and I turned away.

"I'm going to gear up. We weren't far from the Citadel already, so we're talking less than two hours."

He nodded, attention once again on the console, barely hearing me. I shook my head, making my out the door towards my quarters. Blessedly, the galley was empty except for Garner, early at his preparations for breakfast. He turned from the pot he was bent over, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm as he shot me a downright lecherous look, glancing towards the forward batteries. I wrinkled my nose at him, ignoring the chance to explain my presence there in favor of the safety and serenity of the elevator. Gardner knew better than to participate in the rumor mill, or he'd _never_ get those 'A' quality ingredients he kept asking for. The doors closed, and I braced my back against the cool metal, tapping my foot in impatience as I let my thoughts wander.

What was strange, honestly, is on some level I wanted that fucking traitor dead myself; especially if he was the reason for the shift from _my_ Garrus to his current temperament. But I didn't have all the information, and there was no way I was letting anyone, including myself or my partner, play jury and executioner without it. Say what you want about my actions in Chora's Den two years before, I'd made damn sure Finch hadn't changed before I let Red out long enough to end his life. I could only take the same route with this little endeavor.

Then, if needed, I'd intervene in whatever way I needed to in order to spare him the emotional results of the action he wished to take. Maybe then, I could still look at him and not see a creature that had been created in my image.

The man who I now realized, as I more fully considered his mood swings and detached responses, was a result of him being exposed to Red's influence.

He hadn't just emulated me; he'd emulated _her_.

* * *

" _More_ Blue Suns?" I muttered as I hacked my way through the computers in the small office we were using as cover, taking a moment to catch our breath, "Are you freaking kidding me? What, do they own all the stock at Screw-Shepard-R-Us?"

I couldn't help it. The lack of back and forth banter was completely unnerving, and was putting me on edge. Playful quips were my way of keeping the battle in perspective, not taking things too seriously, lest I slip into my deadlier persona. So their absence was making me snippish. I could have handled it better, though, if I thought Garrus was mad at me. That wasn't the case, however. He was just overly focused. He'd been something like this when we'd gone after Saleon, but not completely. Not this far gone.

_He doesn't know how to fight this, does he? The darker nature of who he can be… the presence of the Archangel, for lack of a better identifier. Now, I think I know a little more about why those mercs were so intent on his demise, if this was the sort of intensity he used in pursuing their destruction…_

His shots, if it were possible, were more precise, more brutal, as we'd fought our way up. Even his words to Harkin, that bastard, had been coldly but passionately delivered: _Run all you want, Harkin. We'll find you._

Oh yes, that _ben'jee_ had remembered us. Me, probably, because Ashley had threatened to rip his face off for calling the two of us Princesses. Still, it's always good to know my reputation still carried a little weight. But if he'd looked scared when he'd seen me, though, it had been nothing next to the panicked run he'd broken into at the sight of my turian companion and his Incisor. 'Fade's' face held the expression of a man who had seen death with his own eyes, yelling for his mercs to cover his ass as he turned it our direction.

There was a bit of satisfaction to seeing him so scared, at least, after his smarmy disposition last time I'd needed information out of him.

Moving to the next terminal, I stated the obvious, "I guess Harkin's finally gone completely bad." Amazingly, this finally earned me a few words from Garrus that weren't "Reloading" or "Taking cover."

"He was always a pain in the ass, but I'm in no mood for his games. If he doesn't cooperate I'll beat him within an inch of his life." I shared a look with Tali, who only shrugged non-comitally. But then again, there was a tension to her hands as she casually reloaded her plasma shotgun that betrayed how much her thoughts lay with mine in regards to our friend.

"And to think, I thought you were getting over the whole 'bleeding profusely' version of interrogation." I resumed tapping at the keyboard as Garrus paced the small space like a rabid, caged varren.

"You don't get it, do you?" he stated, gesturing with his hands in small, intense motions, "Harkin may know why Sidonis wanted to disappear. If so, he knows why we're here, and I don't want him tipping Sidonis off."

"So what the hell are you going to do to Harkin if he won't cooperate?" I asked. I was getting more and more pissy with his behavior as time went on, though the main reason for that was the whispering in the back of my head that had suddenly reappeared.

_This version of him is a force to be reckoned with, you know? I think we should try to keep him like this. He's a lot more fun when he's destroying things without a care for the consequences._

I narrowed my eyes, finishing the sequence with vehemence as I replied, _Shut the hell up, bitch. This isn't your call, so keep your nose out of it._

 _Make me, Oh-great-hero. I keep_ him _around long enough, maybe it'll be easier to persuade you to let me more often. He and I complement each other._

As if spurred on by my internal thoughts, Garrus' answer about Harkin was along those same lines, "He's a real criminal now, working for the Blue Suns. I should just shoot him on sight. But I need him _alive_ , so I won't do any permanent damage. Just enough to loosen his tongue."

"You don't have to hurt him to get him to talk," I commented angrily, turning back in his direction, "I know I've taught you that by now. Intimidation can be just as effective."

"Don't worry. Harkin's a coward. He'll talk long before I can really hurt him."

"And I guess you're planning on giving Sidonis similar treatment when we find him?" This just wasn't his way of doing things, damnit. I wanted to find any explanation for it other than my own behavior with Finch and Saleon, but the fact of the matter was I couldn't.

He stopped his pacing, turning his head towards me in an almost predatory manner. "Will it appease your gentle sensibilities, Shepard, if I promise to make it quick and painless? I'll be a poor excuse for a punishment after what he did to everyone he betrayed, if I spare him the agony of a slow and painful death; but as long as he's dead, I'll be satisfied."

Goddam it, wasn't he _listening_ to himself talk? Forget vigilante, he sounded like a cold-blooded murderer.

"And you really think killing him will make things right?" I took a step forward, fists clenched, an action that was mirrored by Garrus as he responded to the challenge in my statement and movements. I could see his body tense at the same time my own did, as if he were just waiting for me to give him a reason to bring us to blows.

 _You once warned Kaidan that challenging the hunter wasn't the brightest of moves. Maybe you should take your own advice, Teandra…_ but fuck that, I could take him down if I needed to. He had no clue exactly what I was capable of when cornered.

 _That's right…_ Red said, her whispering seduction growing slightly louder as she continued to assert her presence, _let yourself say what you want. Get angry…_

 _Go away, Red_ , I thought dryly, _I'm a little busy here._

 _Well, if you need a way to distract him to take him down,_ she responded, _just remember he's always said his species viewed fighting as foreplay. You could always take advantage of that to cool his temper._ You could tell that she liked the idea, at least; not surprising since the first time she'd asserted herself fully on the SR1 was while sparring with him. What I _didn't_ like was the fact that my body was responding to the idea as well. I shook that thought away in disgust, appalled by the very idea of using sex as a manipulation tool on the man in front of me, no matter how pissed off I was at the moment. I was also unnerved by the very nature of her words, since it was a completely new tactic for her to try to use my own physical attraction towards someone against me.

"Shepard, I'm tired of these games," his voice brought my attention back to the danger in front of me forcefully, "I learned how to handle revenge from the best, remember? Finch was unarmed, and you killed him in cold blood. Don't bother to lecture me on morality."

His tone pissed me off even more, and I laughed, barely blinking at the somewhat maniacal sound to it. _By the Goddess, he's bringing_ her _forward even further without my permission. No one's been able to do that since my trainer. Well, fuck this shit. I can handle them both. Right?_

"You think he was unarmed? Yeah, right. Am _I_ ever unarmed? Where do you think I learned that lesson from?"

"Somehow," Tali broke in, physically stepping between our two tensed forms, "I do not think this is the time or the place for this discussion. We cannot make any decision about the betrayer until we know his whereabouts." She glanced back and forth between the two of us, hands placed on either of our chest-plates as if she would keep us apart bodily if need be. If it had been anyone but Tali, I had a feeling even being in enemy territory wouldn't have kept us from trying to either kick each other's asses. Or screwing each other. Or, Goddess forbid, _both_. As it was, perhaps the spirits had been looking out for us after all, because the quarian was probably one of the few people who could have broken through to us.

Still, I felt a certain amount of glee that Vakarian backed down first.

"I know you don't like it, Shepard. But I have to do this." We both stepped back as he said those words, me crossing my arms as I did so, considering his statement. Tali moved forward, opening the window screen that separated us from our next battle ground. I left her to it, glancing back at Vakarian. His posture was still defiant, but I softened slightly at his near regretful tone.

"Is there _no_ other way?"

He hesitated slightly, finally saying, "Maybe. But this is personal. I'll pull the trigger and I'll live with the consequences. All I'm asking is that you help me find him."

 _'I'll live with the consequences..." Maybe that's the solution,_ I thought, knowing even as the thought crossed my mind he'd never go for the idea. But I had to ask, had to offer. "Let me take it for you."

He turned, looking askance at me for a moment before finally stuttering out, "Excuse me?"

" _Let. Me. Take. The. Shot,"_ I repeated, somewhat amused by how that single offer had unsettled him more than all our other arguments, "If we get there, and you're still determined he has to die, let me do it. There is no reason for you to live with the nightmares or the guilt; not when I already have lots of practice at it."

"Why in the hell would I feel guilty for killing that _ben'jee_?"

"You're the one who keeps comparing this to Finch," I retorted, "So take my advice: you will feel it. If premeditated murder doesn't eat away at you later, then you've never been the man I thought you were."

Locking his intense and alien gaze with my own once again, he responded, "Maybe I'm _not_. Maybe I never have been…"

Tali, still watching through the glass, said, " _Spir'ata,_ Shepard, did you see that?" Garrus jumped at the quarian calling him 'older brother', looking towards the glass at the same time I did, just in time to see something move among the crates in front of us.

"I saw _something_ ," I said quietly, my mind instantly processing the yellow coloring and shape, telling me it was a Loki Mech.

The turian next to me brought his Incisor up, once again all business as he checked the ammo and safety readouts on the weapon, commenting, "He's getting ready for us. Wonder what he's got up his sleeve?"

I shook my head, "Don't know. But there's one way to find out." I moved towards the door, checking my own rifle as I went, still struggle to block out the voice of my own craziness as she continued to try to assert herself all over again.

"Right behind you," Garrus said, and I had to wonder if her were referring to the battle or the alien presence in my own body.

What bothered me, more than anything else, is the fact that no matter which he referred to I wasn't sure I wanted him _at_ my back. I'd rather have had him leading, just so I could keep an eye on him, and take him down if the need arose.

A thought that didn't even cause me to flinch, proving how much more Red's presence was insinuating itself into my thought processes as this whole situation continued to move towards conclusion.

* * *

#####

* * *

As we approached the last platform, I sent Shepard a signal, letting her know I was flanking. _Bastard probably won't be smart enough to stop when he sees the guns pointed. Assuming I'm correct, you can bet I'm going to make him regret it._

It felt good, being in warrior mode again; and with Shepard here on top of it. We might have only been seconds away from blows in that room, but it still felt good on so many levels. Strangely, in a way I never would have contemplated or expected, she even managed to match this side of my nature. If I'd have known that, I wouldn't have kept it so tightly checked on the SR1. And Kaidan would probably have never stood a chance with her.

Because no matter what else she was putting off right now, no matter what she and I tried to convince ourselves of, we both knew that it was situations like this that tended to bring out that spark of physical attraction between us. The sparring mat was the only place where we allowed it to run rampant, usually; but I knew human arousal signs much too well now. She had expressed more than a few as our argument had begun to escalate, and the only conclusion I could draw from that was that some part of her liked seeing me this way. Liked seeing me taking charge, and asserting my desires. Maybe I'd been on the wrong track this whole time, constantly backing down and waiting for her to admit she was ready.

It was interesting, how easily I'd found it to slip back into the Archangel's guise: the man who'd broken the entire scum-infested foundation of a criminal run rock through tactics, manipulation, and training. A lot of which had come from the woman I now fought beside. I'd wanted her to be proud of me in whatever spiritual semblance she had inhabited after she died, but when she'd reappeared I'd been too ashamed of my actions to tell her of them.

Maybe I had the wrong idea. Maybe she _would_ have been proud of how I'd handled the mercenary leaders of Omega after all. Even Tarak and his little girl.

I reached the doorway, readying my rifle just in time to hear it _woosh_ as Harkin tried to exit, finishing his taunt of "…not close enough."

"Closer than you think," I muttered, and immediately I snapped into action. Without hesitation I whipped my rifle up, sending the butt of it into his right eye with well-trained precision and force. Not even interrupting the motion, I holstered the Incisor and grabbed the still recovering Harkin by the collar, using just enough force to slightly close off his air supply. Dragging him to the nearby wall, I slammed him against it and pinned him with my forearm, allowing all of my derision and anger towards him to show as I sneered from only inches away, "So, _Fade_ , couldn't make yourself disappear, could you?"

"C'mon Garrus. We can work this out. What do you need?" He gasped out, still somewhat winded from my harsh treatment. _I really should rip his smarmy little throat out…_ but he was cooperating, so no need to get too violent.

Yet.

I released him somewhat, pacing away as I turned my back to him, testing his willingness to help. If the dumbass decided to try anything, I knew Shepard would take him down in a heartbeat.

"I'm looking for someone."

I could feel the change in his demeanor, a stiffening in his resolve, at those words. "I guess we both have something the other one wants." There was a smugness I didn't care for in the least in his tone.

 _Little fucker got a backbone working for the Suns, didn't he? Amazing what spending all your time around mercs will do for you._ Still, couldn't let him think he had any bargaining chip in the conversation, other than his life. He thought he knew what I was capable of. Time to enlighten him that he had no _clue_ who he was dealing with.

I turned back, not even giving my target the time to register my movement before I was on him. Two seconds later he was on the floor, gasping in pain from the armored knee I'd just applied to his groin.

_It's funny, how fragile the human body is when unprotected. Take away the armor and the weapons, and I'm not sure any one of them would be able to defend themselves in close quarters. Except, perhaps, Shepard; she's proven her competency more than once in that arena._

As if in response to thinking her name, my partner piped up, "I'd say that was the wrong answer, Harkin. We're not here to ask favors." There was a tightness to her voice that no one else probably would have heard, slight disapproval at my actions, but she was backing me and that was all that mattered. I'd endure the speech later.

"You don't say?" was Harkin's gasped response as he regained his feet in front of me, but it lacked the sarcastic edge he was going for. There was too much fear painting his words at my interrogation methods, as if it were just starting to occur to him that he may be in more danger than he realized.

_Now we're getting somewhere. Time to put a few more cards on the table._

"You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him." I backed up a few paces, giving the little vorcha room to breathe. Cornered beasts tend to bite when they feel like they have no way out, a tendency easily exploited in some situations, but would do me no good in this one.

"I might need a little more information than that." He was the picture of complacency now. Hopefully that would stick once I said the rest. Would make it much less painful for him, though I'd be lying if I didn't say that part of me hoped he would force my hand.

"His name was Sidonis. Turian. Came from the Terminus…"

"I know who he is and I'm not telling you squat." There was a sudden vehemence to his words that was unexpected, but also confirmed something I already believed. _Tarak arranged for Sidonis' transport and payment, because of me almost killing his daughter. If nothing else, the Blue Suns back each other when there's a problem. Good to know that's one more person down, thanks to Shep._

And since the Suns were currently paying for Harkin's way of life, he'd protect that at all costs. _I'm going to have to step up my efforts_ , I thought gleefully.

"Harkin, this doesn't have to be hard," Shepard made a subtle stopping motion with her right hand, warning me to wait. _Somehow, I don't think you're any better suited to the 'good cop' role than I am, but if you wanna waste your breath…_

"Is this information really worth all the trouble?" she continued, her voice placating but firm.

"Screw you, Princess," our victim responded, looking from her to me and back again, "I don't give out client information. It's bad for business."

I felt the woman tense beside me, but beat her to the punch. Literally. I moved forward a fraction of inch, bringing me right up to my quarry before I kneed him in the gut with twice the force I had to his groin before. He fell onto his back, writhing in pain as he tried to breath around his spasming diaphragm.

"Know what else is bad for business?" I said as I placed an armored foot over his throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off what little air he was swallowing, "A broken neck."

"Alright… _alright_ … get off me!" His gasps and grunts of pain were satisfying in a very personal way, and I contemplated adding the small amount of pressure that would be needed to end his miserable existence.

_I bet we could hack his files, get the information we need. It would take less than four pounds of pressure on a human, if I remember my training correctly._

I felt a hand pulling on my arm, bringing me back from those thoughts. Shepard turned me just enough so I could catch her minute shake of the head in my peripherals.

I narrowed my eyes, letting her know I didn't appreciate the interference, but by the time I turned back our prey was already on all fours, working to stand once again.

Rubbing at his neck once he reached his feet, he commented with lamented breath, "Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?"

For some reason, of everything else, to have this bastard notice broke through my demeanor somewhat. Shepard was one thing, she knew me almost as well as I knew myself; but for that slimy bastard to comment on my actions with so much respect in his voice burned me.

"No," I said somewhat regretfully. The others, the team I was fighting so hard for, what would they think of me right now?

_They're dead, so you'll never know, will you?_

"But Sidonis… _he_ opened my eyes." I nodded to the nearby monitor nonchalantly, "Now arrange a meeting."

He hesitated, looking from the console to Shepard (who kept her expression perfectly blank), and back to me. I nodded towards the console once again, saying nothing.

Finally, with resignation, he sighed, "I'm going," as he walked towards the monitor.

He keyed a few buttons, and immediately started speaking. "Yeah, it's me. There's a chance your identity may be compromised."

 _Sidonis was still on the top of his contact list,_ I observed, _so this transaction must have been recent._

The idea of him being on the other end of the line boiled my blood all over again, and my vision began to haze as I pulled my pistol, a newly produced one identical to Shepard's hand-cannon. Briefly, I admired the design, catching the Commander's eye as she watched me.

"That's why I'm calling," Harkin went on, "I'm sending an agent. Where do you want to meet?"

She shook her head at me, nodding slightly towards the ex C-Sec man we were discussing. _I can't let you kill him. You know that._

I tilted my head, clicking my mandibles in irritation at her 'words.' Tapping the safety off quietly, I gestured to Harkin. _What, exactly, do you plan to do? We can't leave him here. He'll tip off our quarry._

"Alright, he'll be there. Don't worry. I got it covered," the man in question finished, clicking off the comm.

Shepard shrugged at me as he finished, _Don't know, don't care. We're not killing him, so find another way._ As Harkin turned back to us, she gestured in his direction. _Whatever you decide, finish this up._

"It's all good," the forger said, "He wants to meet you in the Orbital Lounge. Middle of the day. So, if our business is done, I'll be going." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, already starting to back away from us.

 _He really thinks we're that stupid, doesn't he?_ I reached forward, covering the short distance with ease as I hooked one taloned hand into his collar and yanked him close once more. "I don't think so. You're a criminal now, Harkin."

Not just fear, but complete terror filled his face as he realized I was onto his little game. Or maybe, just maybe, it was his close proximity to what his body had to be telling him was a predator intent on his demise.

"So _what_ , you're just going to kill me?" he fairly squeaked, the smell of urine permeating the air as it became apparent exactly how afraid he truly was. "That's not your style, Garrus."

_That's amazing, how well he thinks he knows me. Fuck that, I'll show him my style…_

I shoved him down to his knees and backed up, opening my stance up slightly as I brought my pistol up so I could get a better shot. "Kill you," I scoffed in time with the actions, "no. But I sure don't mind leaving a blood trail for C-Sec to follow… and slowing you down a little." With no hesitation, I pulled the trigger, only to feel my arm wrenched upward as the bullet left the barrel.

With a ping, the bullet ricocheted, but missed the four of us. I turned angry eyes on the Commander, her second interference confirming my worst fears about her being on the mission in the first place.

"You don't need to shoot him," she said simply, "He won't be able to hide from C-Sec now. You know that."

Completely pissed, I shook off her arm with a glare. _Knew I should have done this mission on my own._

"I guess it's your lucky day," I sneered at the slowly standing figure. He was getting away with his life, but only because I had a respect for Shepard I wasn't ready to challenge yet. I did have what I needed from him, after all.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, fully regaining his feet, once again cocky because of Shep's intervention, "I hope we can do this again _real_ soon."

I glanced over my shoulder, noting Tali and the Commander were already making for the exit. Once I was sure the girl's attention wasn't on me, however, I struck.

With all the force I could muster, I pulled back, head-butting that fucking _birsh'tat_ right between the eyes with a satisfying _crunch_. He crumpled into a heap on the floor, clutching his face in an attempt to staunch the blood that suddenly began pouring from his nose.

Grinning, I turned to follow my squadmates, glad to have been able to get away with _that_ attack, if not my original intent.

Shepard had pulled back, but fell into step with me as I passed, shaking her head at me.

"Well, I didn't _shoot_ him." I responded, an echo of her own to Kaidan. She smiled, a poor copy of her usual one, showing way too many teeth. It reminded me of some of the fanged predators of Palaven, a thought that encouraged me once I considered it further.

_If she spends a little longer watching me work, my revenge is almost a sure thing. I believe she's starting to agree with my way of thinking, or at least starting to see my point of view._

All she said, though, was, "Let's go."

At a particularly harsh gasp of pain from behind us, I called over my shoulder, "Sidonis better be there, or I'm coming back to finish the job."

"No," Shepard replied, her warning tone matching my own, " _We_ are."

* * *

#####

* * *

The hum of the shuttle eased the quiet for a few minutes as we made our way towards the Orbital Lounge, but not nearly enough. Apparently, Garrus agreed with me, because finally he broke the uncomfortable silence, "Harkin's a bloody menace. We shouldn't have just let him go. He deserves to be punished."

"I'm pretty sure you covered that. In fact, I'm getting a little worried about you Garrus. You were a little hard on Harkin."

"You don't think he deserved it?"

"What I think doesn't matter. It's just not like you." _At least, not the old you. Why did you ever walk into my life, Garrus? 'Cause if this is what knowing me did to you, then I take it all that romanticism back. I've been right all along about me poisoning your life._

Something, maybe the almost pleading and sorrowful tone I used, seem to break through his new demeanor again, the mask he was wearing to steel himself for what he had set out to accomplish. It also comforted me somewhat, that realization, that part of this was a facade waiting to be disregarded once his mission was completed. Still, he turned away from me in exasperation as I continued to our destination, asking, "What do you want from me, Shepard? What would you do if someone betrayed you?"

I thought about that for a second. True, gut-wrenching, life-destroying betrayal… had I ever actually experienced that? Terror, heartbreak, danger, disaster, yes. Personal betrayal of the nature he was facing? No. Not by someone I knew, someone I cared about. But I had been through enough to feel secure in the answer I gave.

"I'm not sure. But I wouldn't let it change me."

He scoffed at me, glare easy to feel in spite of my attention on the traffic in front of us. "I'd have said the same thing before it happened to me. To you, or to anyone else. I was a fool."

"It's not too late. You don't have to go through with this."

"Who's going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don't?" he said, as if that negated the very opportunity to leave it be, "Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else _cares_. I don't see any other options." For a moment, it seemed as if he would say more, as if there was some other aspect of the issue he wanted to share with me, then thought better of it.

There had to be another option. I didn't give two shits about Sidonis, or his life, but I sure as _hell_ gave a damn about the man beside me; I didn't want him to _become_ me. That had been the whole idea of him going to the Citadel in the first place.

"Let me talk to him," I said finally.

"Talk all you want," he sneered, "but it won't change my mind. I don't care what his reasons were, he screwed us… he deserves to die."

"By the damn spirits, Vakarian," I parked the shuttle, locking it into park with a snap, "I fucking get it; totally understand what you're going through. But is he even worth wasting the damn bullet on?"

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not you."

 _You're closer than you think, and I don't like it._ "This isn't you either."

"It's amazing, how all of a sudden everyone seems to think they know who I am. I've always hated injustice. The thought that Sidonis could get away with this…" he gave a chuckle, one that held an almost maniacal edge to it, before continuing, "Why should he go on living when ten good men lie in unmarked graves? I'm sorry, Shepard. Words aren't going to solve this problem."

"But…"

"Conversation over. I need to set up." He looked around, picking a spot that overlooked the meet quite easily. He'd be less than 100m from his target even at the farthest range from his perch. "I can get a clear shot from over there."

That was it. One way or another, this was going to happen. Might as well keep myself as involved as possible. "What do you need me to do? My offer to take the shot for you still stands, Vakarian. But this is your mission, your call."

"I don't think so. Just keep him talking and don't get in my way. I'll let you know when he's in my sights. Give me a signal so I know you're ready, and I'll take the shot."

He stepped out, hand on the door for a moment, then stated simply, "You better go. He'll be here soon."

Then, the door closed, and still shaking my head I pulled off to land below.

"What is going on with him, Shepard? You cannot actually be thinking of allowing him to do this?"

I silenced the comm on my end before responding, "What choice do we have, Tali? If not now, he'll run himself ragged trying to find Sidonis all over again. Without us there to give him a reason to curb his actions. What if Sidonis runs today? Who stops Garrus from pulling some stupid shit and injuring a civilian? Trust me, cops don't do well in jail."

"If you say so, Shepard. But I do not like him like this."

"Me either," I said as I pulled into the parking area, "but I get where he's coming from too. Losing people you care about… it eats at you. Makes you say and do things you would never consider before. Whether he can be brought back from that edge remains to be seen."

"Just do not fall into that abyss yourself, Shepard. You are not exactly perfect at controlling yourself in those kinds of situations either."

 _Sure you are…_ I heard her whisper, _you just handle your enemies a little more ruthlessly. You could always stab his quarry as he watches through the scope; let the traitor's blood flow, thereby giving him his revenge without forcing your precious cop to do the dirty deed._

I slammed the door to the shuttle down forcefully, thinking, _My god, will you shut up for like, five minutes?_

 _So you like the idea, then,_ she said with more than a little arrogance, _Well, the option is always there. You know what_ I _would do, anyway, and it isn't cage the weapon he's become._

I hit the door with my fist, using the pain that resulted to drive her back once again as I responded, _Yeah, I do know what you'd do. Let him take the shot, thereby trapping him into a darkness you can manipulate and control, just like everyone else. So how about this: Get the fuck out of my head, bitch._

Her gleeful chuckle was the only response, though she did fade backwards once again as I focused my thoughts.

"Shepard, can you hear me?" I heard Garrus ask, the sound of a fresh heatsink being loaded permeating the background.

I tapped the button to open my side of the link once again. "Loud and clear."

We moved into the open area, turning right in the direction of the Orbital Lounge as we turned the corner. We moved forward, looking around intently for our quarry. I caught sight of a single turian seated on a bench in front of us, hearing Garrus say at the same time, "All right, there he is. Wave him over and keep him talking."

I did so, immediately taking in the fact that his clothing was of an expensive turian design. But it fit him loosely, as if he'd recently lost weight. Also, even while in the terminus systems, every turian who'd chosen to wear his clan colors took special effort to make sure they were applied impeccably. Sidonis had taken no such care, smudging evident in the semi-temporary application.

His markings… something about them was familiar, but damn if I could place it. Their coloring wasn't even so different from Garrus', though slightly lighter, more of a sky blue than cobalt. As he came closer, I could actually hear the clicking of mandibles over the comm, the way in which Garrus was itching to take the shot. In fact, the only reason he probably hadn't done so already was my close proximity to the traitor.

"Let's get this over with," Sidonis said, and I was taken aback by the very sound of his voice. The way Garrus had been going on, you would have thought he'd have breathed fire with every word. His voice held none of the arresting quality of my turian friend, but was a soothing and comforting sound none-the-less, despite his obvious nervousness.

"You're in my shot, Shepard. Move to the side."

_That's his only chance at redemption, how much he cares for you. You move out of his line of sight, and the Garrus you know is gone._

With that thought, I steeled my resolve, and said the words that might save my _afeni_ but destroy anything we may have ever had together.

"Listen Sidonis. I'm here to help you."

* * *

#####

* * *

_By all the damn spirits of the hierarchy, why couldn't she just follow the fucking plan? It was a_ very simple _plan._

"Damn it, Shepard! If he moves, I'm taking the shot!" There he stood, bearing the same markings as my sister, markings that she had more honor in wearing than he would ever have in spite of the short time she'd borne them. The Sidonis Clan, in spite of this particular example, were well known for their loyalty and level-headedness.

She ignored me, eyes on Lantar as he responded to her statement. "You're not kidding, are you? Screw this, I'm not sticking around to find out. Tell Garrus I had my own problems."

_That's right, you fucking coward. Run away. Give me a clear fucking shot at your deceiving ass…_

Again, though, she anticipated my move. Instinctively, she reached forward, grabbing his arm to keep herself between me and my quarry.

 _Damn, she knows me too well._ I might have felt myself slipping into the darkness, notch by notch, but I would never be so far gone that I'd risk her life unnecessarily.

"Don't move," I heard her hiss at him over the comm, yanking him back to his prior position in front of her.

"Get off me!" He shrugged her off, moving as if to leave anyway. I steadied my breathing, knowing that at this distance it couldn't vary the shot nearly enough to make a difference; but I was taking no chances with the auburn hair that was still in my scope.

"I am the only thing standing between you and a hole in the head," she said with conviction, causing him to turn back with a look of terror.

The same look he'd held when he woke up in Solus' clinic, barely alive, though it had changed upon seeing Jintah's face.

"Fuck…" he said, all life draining from him as he scanned the nearby area for the glint of my scope. But his battle skills had never been as honed as my own, and he gave up in favor of pleading with the human in front of him. "Look. I didn't want to do it. I didn't have a choice."

I moved the scope in, remembering how well the whole team had meshed with Lantar's easy calm, his patient view of everything from tactics to logistics. He had armed and armored them, then left them to die.

_Boomer, hand still clutching a flash grenade in some form of a cosmic joke._

_Jarolan, face downward as if he is merely asleep, something that is a sure indication of his demise since rest was something he abhorred._

_Kheron, body riddled with holes from bullets of multiple calibers, as if even after his final breath his enemies wanted to make sure he was dead._

_Chaven, bloody arms thrown over his head in a last ditch attempt to hold off the bullets._

_Canderous, a look of grim determination on his face, the Sokolov a mangled mess within his hands from a round it has taken to the heat sink._

_Nero, fallen in front of Dar, as if the two had been protecting each other as the last of the enemies had moved to close in._

"Everyone has a choice," I muttered, finger twitching.

"They got to me. Said they'd kill me if I didn't help. What was I supposed to do?"

" _Tell him for me… tell him that…" Jintah expels her final breath, unable to give the last confession of her love as the life drains from her._

"Let me take the shot, Shepard. He's a damn coward."

"Shut the hell up," Shepard said at the same time, and for a moment I wasn't even sure if it were me or the man in front of her she spoke to, "Just 'cause I'm trying to save your ass doesn't mean what I think you did was right. I just think Garrus is better than this."

"Better than this? You must not know him all that well, human. Why don't you tell that to the kid he shot?"

 _Fuck. That_ _ **could not**_ _be why he did it… because of Tarak's little girl? The one I_ didn't _shoot because Shepard invaded my calm when I needed it most?_

"Shepard, tell him I didn't shoot her. I want to see the look on his face when he realizes he betrayed us over an assumption."

"Garrus? What kid is he talking about?"

"Just do it, Teandra." It was bad if I was calling her by her first name while on a mission. Very bad indeed.

"He says… he says he didn't shoot her." I watched as Sidonis' face lit with approval, a single moment of confirmation that he hadn't ever really wanted to believe I could kill a ten year old child in cold blood. Then, his whole body slumped as it occurred to him that every one of his actions had taken place due to a _spirit's blasted_ wrong conclusion.

The reaction wasn't as satisfying as I wanted it to be. Maybe because I was trying to remain cold and emotionless, but more likely because it had been my own pride that had kept his assumptions from being disproven; my own anger at his lack of faith in the person I was.

Then, before my eyes, and entirely new expression graced what I could see of his face. Slowly, disbelievingly, he spoke once again, "You're her, aren't you? They said you were back, but I wasn't sure I believed it. You're Teandra Shepard."

"What's it to you?"

He laughed, a harsh ragged sound, as if he hadn't done it in a long time. Thinking back to Omega, I guess he hadn't. Not since before his accident.

"If anyone can save him from what he was becoming, can bring him back, it's you. You were his world…"

"Tell him Jintah said to tell him she loved him on her dying breath," I interrupted, before he could ramble any more of my depressed confessions to her, "Tell that traitorous _ben'jee_ that."

She relayed the message with trepidation, as if realizing she was in over her head, that there was more going on than she knew.

"At least Jintah had the quad to say it," he responded, no surprise in his voice at her confession. "Have you yet?"

_How dare he? How fucking DARE he even say her name?_

"Shepard, if you don't get the hell out the way, there will be two shots: a concussive one followed by a lethal one."

"Blow it out your ass, Vakarian. If you really wanted to fire, you'd have done it already. We both know you're good enough to hit him even with me in the way. So shut up and listen to what he's saying."

Essentially, she'd just made her decision, _"You get to make the damn call, but I'm not going to make it easy, Archangel."_

She turned back to the man before her, saying, "So that's it? You were trying to save yourself, or Garrus, or…?" They moved to the nearby railing as she spoke, Sidonis resting on it wearily as they did so. He'd looked just like that after the Rites-Party, hadn't he? Except at least then he'd been happy and smiling…

_I rush my newly christened rite-brother, embracing him excitedly as the day starts winding to an end._

" _There you go, taking home the greatest treasures from all our adventures again," I say as I release him, "Leave it to you to snag the jewel of the Vakarian Clan."_

_He laughs delightedly, saying, "I only hope I can be everything she deserves. She's a wonderful woman, Garrus."_

" _She wasn't always so nice, you know. She was a holy terror growing up."_

" _Don't you believe that for a minute," a new voice says, the voice of my sister, always filled with laughter, "Gar was just always picking on me, and got mad when I started fighting back."_

_I hug her in turn, saying, "Just like any self-respecting turian. You better not become a stranger, Mishta."_

" _Oh, I doubt that," she says coyly, glancing at Lantar, who nods happily, "After all, I'll have to come back for the child-naming ceremony, won't I?"_

" _But who knows when that'll be…" Then it hits me. "Wait, you're pregnant? Are you serious?"_

_She giggles slightly, saying, "Absolutely. We're going to tell Mother and Father tonight before we leave. Don't spoil the surprise, okay?"_

_I growl happily, grabbing them both in an almost crushing embrace. "I'm so excited for you two. My baby sister and my dearest friend. What could ever ruin this?"_

One of these days, I'd learn to stop tempting the spirits by saying things like that.

"I know what I did," his voice contrasted sharply with my memories, the injuries to his throat while on Omega having damaged one of his voice boxes, "I know they died because of me, and I have to live with that." The man who had given my sister his markings, who I'd trusted with my life more than once, said with obvious agony. He stopped, taking a deep breath, then another, as if he couldn't quite get a full lungful of air.

"I wake up every night… sick… and sweating. Each of their faces staring at me, accusing me…" He trailed off, burying his face in his hands. To my amazement, I saw Shepard place a single hand on his shoulder, in a display of physical comfort she rarely granted anyone.

 _Well, you're not the only one who lives with nightmares from what you've done,_ I thought, _We're all paying for it. Difference is I'm not the one to blame._

"I'm already a dead man. I don't sleep. Food has no taste some days. I just want it to be over."

I felt a small stab of pity touch my heart, quickly dismissed when I thought about the last two members of my team.

 _Jackson's body is half hidden under Nex's limp form. It looks as if the krogan had taken the bullets meant for the human, but had undone all his efforts as he fell upon him in his death throes. Jackson still has a pulse, but only just, and it is fading. A shock of red-brown catches my eye, and I stare in horror at the message he has left me in his own blood, at the words_ **I atoned** _._

'I atoned.' Not for an action he had committed, but for one he couldn't stop.

 _How would it affect her decision, right now, if she knew what Lantar did to the man she considered to be a father?_ But that would require me having the time to tell her the full story, a luxury we didn't currently have. It was only a matter of time before Harkin recovered, and put either the Blue Suns or C-Sec on our trail. A decision needed to be made _now_.

"Just want it to be over, huh?" I re-steeled my resolve at the same time as my trigger finger, "Just give me the chance."

And yet, even as I began to place the small amount of pressure on the single piece of metal that would end it all, I found I was questioning myself once again. Like I was still waiting for something.

An eye for an eye, a life for a life. The decision rest in my hands.


	11. The Brink

_Put to rest_

_What you've thought of me_

_Well I clean this slate_

_With the hands of uncertainty_

_So let mercy come_

_And wash away…_

_What I've done_

Linkin Park – _"What I've Done"_

 

**Chapter 10- The Brink**

I held the rifle, silence ringing through the comm louder than the gunshot I'd yet to take as the stock grew warm in my hands. I needed to make a call, make a choice, but I found myself balancing on the cusp of indecision in a way I hadn't felt since that night at Tarak's house so long ago.

" _Spir'ata._ " The last voice I would have thought to enter the situation was in my ear, once again calling me 'older brother' with so much admiration. "Can you not see how much he is already hurting?" There was a touch of sadness, too, in the voice of one of the few other females who had broken through my barriers, albeit in a completely different capacity.

Tali, my friend and confidant, the girl who reminded me so much of my precious Mishta that I sometimes wondered what I would find if she were ever to remove her faceplate.

My more rational self (damn him) was getting louder inside my head, reminding both of us that there were more pros and cons that needed consideration than my selfish need for... justice.

 _Shepard's not the only one will see the blood fly, you realize that, don't you? Rite-brother or no, what_ right _do you have to subject either of them to that?_

Previously, I had said I thought my sister would approve of my plans for Lantar, but would she really? Would she actually want to witness the death of the man she had loved so completely? Would she actually feel there was honor in spilling his blood when his actions were due, even partially, to situations and events beyond his knowledge and control?

And did I really want Tali, even if my thoughts about her bearing some remnant of my sister's spirit were all sentimental drivel, to witness the act of murder I so desperately wanted to commit? She had been the one to point out to me that my actions influenced others just as much as theirs influenced mine. _What kind of example are you setting? How do you want her to remember you, after all is said and done?_

In that regard, 'desperate' was probably an understatement. This scenario reeked of the cowardly emotion, if I thought about it objectively. I had forced myself to snipe him from here, instead of driving my Mexta into his throat, in order to distance myself from the kill. This should be a ritual killing, not revenge. My own culture dictated that traitors should die by the sword. Even recently, the news had been awash with talk about Sergeant Sanus Iheras's 'suicide' after the death of two human journalists at the hands of his subordinates. Commander Dianix's response to questions about the charges had been succinct, but accurate: "Turians are not as litigious as humans. The matter will be resolved shortly."

If that traitor had any honor left, he'd have ended his life already. As it was, I was family, and it wasn't beyond the realm of my duties to 'assist' him. Shooting him certainly wouldn't have cost me any points with Hierarchy; if anything, it probably would have brought me back up a few notches in their estimation.

Suddenly, a saying from a human religion (of those who worship the Spirit of Jehovah, if memory served) came to mind. "We are in the world, but not of it." Teandra had scoffed at the quote, remarking that it was like one of her ilk practicing ritualistic Wicca while looking down their nose at it. "You can't just pick and choose which parts of the gospel you're going to adhere to. 'Do, or do not; there is no try.'"

Here I was, a self-proclaimed bad turian, trying to behave like any other of my kind, simply because it suited my purposes. What kind of man did that make me?

"You've got to let it go, Garrus," came the voice of my eternal conscience. "He's already paying for his crimes." Again, I thought back to that night in Tarak's home on Omega. History was repeating itself, only this time, she was in the flesh instead of only a voice in my head.

"He hasn't paid enough," I growled, as much to myself as to her, as I continued to watch her through my scope. "He still has his life." Just because I realized there were parallels between the two situations to be drawn (and thus, making me realize the likely outcome) didn't mean I had to be happy about it.

"Look at him, Garrus." Teandra pulled back, gesturing towards the beaten figure still leaning against the railing, giving me a clear shot as she did so. "He's not alive. There's nothing _left_ to kill." As much as I wanted to, I couldn't take the blatant opening. Either I was as much of a bad turian as I always said I was, taking pride in the simple defiance of the societal rules my people lived by, or she was starting to make sense.

"My men, they deserved better…" It was a last ditch attempt at convincing myself, but it was half-assed and I knew it.

"They're already punishing him in their own way. Leave their spirits to avenge themselves."

"Tell Garrus…" Lantar's voice intruded on our conversation, full of agony and regret. "I guess there's nothing I _can_ say to make it right." His tone triggered a few regrets of my own.

Not that I was lacking for those, but what's a few more between family members?

He'd tried, hadn't he? Tried to warn me after that mission with Jaroth that things were going down hill, before turning to the gangs with the information they wanted. I couldn't pretend to understand the reason behind the betrayal, but I clearly remembered him calling the idea to piss off the mercenaries a 'house in the Invictus Jungle.'

Wasn't I also guilty in all this? Not equally so, but guilty, nonetheless? It was my hubris that made me believe he'd follow me to the end of everything without question. If I'd been paying closer attention...

By the spirits of my fallen brothers and sister, I just couldn't do it. Not here, not now. Not until my head was clear, or I was no better than the criminals I had dedicated my whole damn life to hunting down. I could always find him again later, if I changed my mind; but taking the shot right now would be a final call, one I wasn't lucid enough to make. Death was a card you couldn't shuffle back into the deck once you played it, no matter how easy Teandra made it look with her continued existence.

"Just… go. Tell him to go." I sighed, still trying to reason with myself as to why these types of decisions were so damn _hard_ with Shepard around.

"He's giving you a second chance, Sidonis," the Commander said softly. "Don't waste it."

I watched through the scope as Lantar nodded slowly, finally saying, "I'll try, Garrus. I'll make it up to you, somehow." He looked back to Teandra, going on, "Thank you… for talking to him. Please, if you can, save him from himself."

"I'm in no position to save anyone, Sidonis. Now get out of here before he changes his mind."

* * *

"You interfered, Shepard, when I specifically asked you not to. How in the hell did you think I WOULDN'T be pissed off by that?"

"I don't give a flying fuck at a rolling donut what you asked, Vakarian. You didn't give me all the information, or a say in the proceedings. If you're _going_ to treat me like a goddamn subordinate, then you better remember human chain of command isn't as rigorous as it is with turians. We _listen_ to our backup when they make suggestions."

 _Here we go again_ , I thought, _fight number eight since the Citadel. Wonder how many more it'll take to get my point across?_

"You're going to pretend you understand everything about how turian culture works now? Have a few chats, watch a few documentaries, and suddenly, you're an expert?" I retorted, mandibles clicking in irritation, "If you knew nearly as much as you _think_ you did, then the mission would never have been an issue. He'd have been dead as soon as we knew his location, clan-less deceiver that he is."

"Then why did you let him go?" she snapped. "You had a clear shot at least three times during the conversation."

The cargo hold just didn't feel big enough for the two of us, and on some level I was damn glad we hadn't sparred since that mission. Might have been enough to make me to do something stupid, and yes, perverts, you can interpret the definition of _stupid_ however you want.

"It was personal, and personal equals sloppy," I shot back. "You've proven that more than a few times, and sloppy isn't how _I_ work."

Her jaw literally dropped at that last jab, much to my satisfaction, but her silence didn't last long. "Don't you _dare_ talk to me about sloppy, Mr.-Suicide-By-Merc! You..."

"Um… Commander? Vakarian?" A new voice interrupted our argument, that of our ever-sardonic pilot.

"What is it, Moreau?" Teandra was all but growling at the speaker, awaiting his response with obvious impatience.

"We've arrived at our next destination, and Massani is already crawling up my fourth point of contact to get boots on ground."

"Shit…" she muttered, "Zorya. I didn't realize we'd even hit the Faia System yet."

"You were a little distracted, Commander."

"Tell Zaeed I said, 'Sit on it and rotate.' We'll be up in a minute."

She turned to me, somehow managing to make her words a question in spite of her anger, "You coming? It's your call. I learn from my mistakes, after all."

The implication, of course, was that I never learned from mine, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait.

"Oh, you know I'm in," I said, though I'd be lying if I tried to say that there wasn't more than a little bitterness to my tone. "I never miss the opportunity to make you look like an amateur with that rifle."

She narrowed her eyes, fully in command mode as she said, "Then suit up, and get back upstairs. ETA for shuttle launch is 10 minutes, and don't think I won't shut the door in your face if you're late."

* * *

#####

* * *

I just didn't understand him, sometimes. I really, _really,_ didn't.

I'm not sure what I expected, honestly, with that particular mission next on our agenda, but still…

Okay, so it had been stupid to go after a man Zaeed had been looking for twenty years, and for a betrayal to boot, but _damnit_ the merc hadn't bothered to tell me that was the mission. If he had I would have waited. Or at least consulted with Vakarian first. Though, come to think of it, that might not have been the best idea, either, considering where his head had been the last week, or so. As it was, I'd been stuck dealing with two men who both seemed to think I was _insane_ for saving those factory workers, and who spent more time talking to each other than me.

Call me self-centered, but if I'm at an invitation-only party, I will NOT be ignored. Period.

_I cross my arms, gauging the merc in front of me as all the bombs he just dropped moved through my brain, trying to find a place to take root._

" _Twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge," I say finally, unsure_ how _to respond to all these new revelations. Little did I realize what reaction this would draw from my companions. Garrus looks up from his perch on the nearby railing, watching but not interfering while Zaeed proceeds to give me a dressing-down._

" _A grudge!_ " _He points a finger at my chest angrily, and I just manage to stifle the reflexive response to knock it away. A glance at Vakarian reveals a slight twitch of his mandibles as he tries not to laugh at my diplomacy. "Vido turned my men against me. He paid six of them to restrain me while he put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. For twenty years I've seen that bastard every time I close my eyes. Every time I sighted down on a target. Every time I heard a gunshot. Don't you call that a goddamn 'grudge.'"_

_He pulls back, this man who had once founded the very mercenary organization that has hounded me since waking, and shakes his head in anger. His damaged eye seems to flash as the memory of how it got that way goes through his head, though I know that's physically impossible under the circumstances._

" _You survived a gunshot to the head?" My disbelief is palpable, and I don't bother hiding it._

" _Yeah, and you survived your ship getting disintegrated," he retorts, drawing a snort from our third. "A stubborn enough person can survive just about anything. Rage is a hell of an anesthetic." I glance over at Garrus, unable to help but draw a parallel between our current companion and my turian partner. The image is disturbing._

" _We better get moving," I say, starting across the bridge without waiting for Zaeed to agree. I'm the Commander, after all._

And yet, Zaeed had seen fit to challenge that command at every turn throughout the whole goddamned mission. He hadn't been part of the team, instead acting as if he were running solo, putting Garrus and I at risk at the same time. His actions at the gatehouse, by keeping us out of the loop, had crossed the line.

" _We don't sacrifice lives for the sake of the mission," I say angrily, finger now pointed at his chest to reiterate my point. "There's_ always _better way."_

" _Like what?" The scarred merc sneers at me, continuing sarcastically, "Wandering around in the jungle for hours looking for another way in? You wanna waste time out here, go ahead. I'm going to kill Vido."_

_I just stare at him, considering the challenge in his voice, before finally saying 'fuck it' and punching the shit out of him, landing a solid hook to his jaw. He stumbles back, and the look of disbelieving rage gives me a fleeting moment of gladness before reason takes over again._

" _You're endangering lives-and the mission—for your own selfish revenge. Fuck that, that's not how_ this _team works."_

_He regains his stance, fingering his jaw reflexively as he says, "You really wanna do this Shepard?"_

" _I_ _ **oughtta**_ _knock you the hell out," I retort, turning my back on him to show him_ exactly _how worried I am by his so-called threat. "But thanks to you, we have a burning refinery to save."_

 _No one_ challenged my command. I might be crazy, and getting more emotional the more I hung around Garrus as he tried to tear down the stone walls I kept so carefully maintained, but I'd be _damned_ if anyone would question my ability to lead.

And no, we will not mention that a certain turian had done just that on several occasions. He, at least, had the good sense not to do it in front of an audience after what happened at the docking bay on Noveria. Zaeed, on the other hand, was all too happy to do it whenever the fuck he felt like it while we were on Zorya, and there was too much at stake for that to be allowed. Respecting the chain of command was a lesson Zaeed was going to learn if he wanted to stay on my ship. I vowed in that gatehouse that if he _ever_ talked to me again the way he did before I hit him, he'd regret it.

The universe, of course, does not see fit to bend to my will _all_ the time, so the way things worked out made getting the gun-for-hire back under control... a little more complicated than I'd have liked. We'd saved the workers, destroyed the base, only to reach the shuttle dock just as Vido's ship took off, him taunting us all the while.

The backblast had been more than enough to throw my smaller form off balance, but not our merc, who ran forward firing until his rifle clicked dry. Even then, he'd continued firing, watching as the man he'd spent so much time pursuing fly away without so much as a scratch.

Angrily, he popped the heatsink, staring at it as if he could will it to be Vido on the ground below him instead of the spent cartridge.

_He turns his empty rifle on me, saying, "You just cost me twenty years of my life."_

" _No,_ you _just cost you twenty years. That burning refinery was your fault, and you're going to regret your rashness one of these days, mercenary." I keep my voice even, in stark contrast to the rage burning in the man's eyes. I can't let this go, though, because just as I want to show Zaeed there is more to life than revenge, I need Garrus to see what that sort of emotion leads to in the long run: Obsession, violence, hatred. It's all-consuming, leaving room for nothing else, and that's not a life. Only a semblance of one, and a shitty one, at that._

_Suddenly, I sniff the air, looking down at the spent heatsink just in time to realize what has happened. I dodge left, tackling Vakarian to the ground as an explosion rocks the platform we're on. I hear a metallic clank behind us, as debris begins falling to the ground from the fuel explosion triggered by our merc, if only incidentally._

" _You okay?" My tone is panicked, but I've got no time for saving face. I might be mad at him, but that doesn't mean I want anything irrevocable to happen. He nods from inches away, face still surprised at the suddenness of my action._

_I stand without responding, turning to find Zaeed trapped under a heavy beam as the platform continues to burn around us all._

" _Son of a bitch," he exclaims, his pain evident from his groans._

" _Zaeed, you all right?" I ask irascibly. I'm concerned, but also amused by the irony of the whole situation._

" _What the hell do you care? I'm fine," he grunts, "Now come on. Get me out of this shithole."_

 _I do care, and that's the problem. I care too much, especially about anyone under my command. Not that I'm going to tell_ him _that._

" _I'm not sure I need a man like you on my ship," I state simply, and it's the truth. I can't help but look out for my crew, and if he's not there, I don't have to worry about him getting one of them killed._

" _If you didn't need me, Cerberus wouldn't have paid my fee. I'll do what I was paid to do. Nothing more, nothing less," he struggles against the beam pinning him down, to no avail. "Now stop screwing around. Let's go!"_

" _You put your own goals ahead of the mission. That's not the way this works." It's this point, more than any other, that I need to get across. If he can't follow orders when it counts, I can't count on him. And once we got through the Omega 4 relay, I needed troops, not liabilities._

" _I've survived this long watching my own back. No time to worry about anyone else's."_

 _He just didn't fucking get it, and it was time to make sure he did. Men like him fear those stronger than them, and I_ am _stronger. I pull my cannon, pointing it at him so he has to look into the barrel as he looks back up at me._

" _I'll make this a little clearer," I say, cheering internally at the brief flicker of worry I see in his eyes before tamping down my somewhat inappropriate enthusiasm. "You're part of the team now, Zaeed. There's no way we can do this unless we're all working together."_

" _You have a point," he admits, though he manages to keep any fear he feels hidden. I holster my weapon. "I'm not done with Vido, but I can put that behind me long enough to get your mission done." I move the beam as he speaks, helping him stand on shaky legs._

" _That's all I ask. Help me save the galaxy, and I'll help you track him down myself. It's not like I'm a fan of the Blue Suns."_

_He looks at me, gauging, before finally responding. "Then let's get the hell out of here."_

Garrus had watched me with hooded eyes and a thoughtful expression the entire way back through the jungle landscape, though he was careful to glance away whenever I turned to meet his gaze.

 _Yes, Garrus, you're not the_ only _one I'm a hardass with,_ I thought wryly. How else was I going to get this team all on the same page?

Still, I was glad, at that moment, that I'd been stubborn about not letting Garrus take that shot, and that I'd been adamant about my belief that revenge wasn't the way to handle things.

Because looking at the last mission, and Zaeed's actions, all I could think was... if not for me, _that_ is what Garrus would have become.

* * *

"Shepard, how long are you going to fight this?"

I stopped mid-kata, glaring at the pair of women who'd just entered the workout room.

"Is _nowhere_ sacred anymore? I'm trying to vent a little frustration here, if you don't mind." I started to resume the practice exercise not once, not twice, but three fucking times, only to throw my hands up in disgust once I realized my concentration had been broken. Sighing heavily, I walked over to where my gear was sitting, snatching my water bottle with repugnance. It wasn't the water bottle's fault my shipmates were a bunch of nosy, interfering gossip mongers, but the consequences of sneering at the metal vessel were much less daunting than if I did the same thing to my friends.

"Fight _what,_ Tali?" I was all but snarling as I unscrewed the cap, which, in my book, counted as being polite in my current mindset. "What am I fighting?"

"This attraction to your turian friend." Kasumi answered for her, moving towards the dartboards at the far side of the room with interest. She gauged the distance, then whipped her hand, producing a throwing star that landed dead center of the board with precise accuracy.

"I do not think that is what those are there for, Kasumi," Tali said in amusement, taking a seat next to my gear. The thief in question laughed, retrieving her star and taking the second chair with an air of mischief. I took a swig out of my water bottle, recapping it before tossing it back on my towel.

I crossed my arms, thinking, before finally answering their question.

"I don't know. How's 'as long as it takes' work for you two?" The pair of women shared a look of exasperation, the thief clearly saying, _See what I mean?_ Its funny, how easily I could read Tali without being able to ever see her face. Come to think of it, that was something she and Kasumi had in common, given that damn hood the Asian woman always wore. Maybe that was why I could read the thief so well, despite the head covering and our short acquaintance: I'd had lots of practice with her quarian counterpart.

"I've said from the beginning we were wrong for each other," I elaborated. "This just proves my point."

"Okay, let me reword the question then," Tali said, sighing heavily. " _Why_ are you so set against being happy? You care for him, do you not?"

"More than he'll probably ever know," I responded, truthfully.

"Well? It cannot be coincidence you chose him, albeit unknowingly, first of all your shipmates to recruit," the quarian responded, "The ancestors brought you together."

"Could have been hormones," Kasumi commented, earning an embarrassed head-shake from Tali. "What? Are you arguing the point? I'm right and you know it."

"No, I am arguing the phrasing. We are trying to knock some holes in her logic, not make her jump him in the forward batteries."

I was very, very glad I had already put my water bottle away. Otherwise, the two women would have been very upset with me for spraying them down after that comment. As it was, I coughed and sputtered and marveled yet again at how much my little sis had grown up in the three-plus years I'd known her.

"Well, rumor says _that_ already happened there, anyway…" Kasumi was attempting seriousness, but it fell flat due to her ever-present smirk.

"Look," I said, rolling my eyes hard enough to give me the beginnings of a headache, irritated by the verbal back and forth. "What you're _both_ missing is that he deserves better than what I can offer him."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Shepard. He keeps saying the same thing, and you **both** have to open your eyes and realize neither of you is better or worse than the other. You have always been a team. Everything else is a simple natural progression."

"Not for me," I said bitterly, "I screw 'em, and leave 'em. Just ask Alenko."

The pair shared another look, almost identical to the first one, which I still found amazing, considering neither could see the other's face.

"He drove you away, Shepard," Kasumi said. I started at this, and she rushed to reassure me that she hadn't been stalking me way back when. "I never knew him, but word gets around. Especially where you're concerned, I get the impression you never cared for him anyway, or at least not the same way you do about Garrus. So why do you care?"

"Don't you get it?" I started pacing, glancing from one to the other in hopes I could get my point across. " _Alenko_ cared, and left anyway, long before he knew where my feelings lay. Just because I didn't _want_ his gift didn't mean I didn't want the chance to decide for myself. Abandonment _hurts_ , no matter how much I try not to let it."

"Being both a warrior and a woman is not easy, Shepard. I know," Tali said, and Kasumi nodded her agreement. "But you will figure it out. You always do."

"I'm glad you two have so much faith in me."

"Not just in you. But in Garrus, as well," Kasumi said, taking the throwing star back out and tracing the edges absently. "The word is that he really likes you. Personally, I can never tell with turians. But I also know a lot of people want to see you two together."

"You say that like you actually think he'll forgive me."

"Are you kidding, Shepard?" Tali laughed. "I give it three days before the words 'little Spectre' leave his mouth, or I will go kick some sense into him myself."

At this, my pacing turned into an impromptu exit, though I was proud of myself for not covering my blushing face. It wasn't until I was halfway to the loft that I realized I'd left my gear behind in my haste to get away.

* * *

#####

* * *

"So Vakarian, I hear Shepard's on the market again. Does it violate the turian 'bro-code' if I ask her out, or just the human one?"

I briefly contemplated the idea of simply walking out of the cockpit rather than submit to this inquisition. I had gone up there for a change of scenery, not to gossip. Ultimately, the curious detective got the better of the annoyed male and played along. "No, but it might violate her 'kick your ass' code. And when did you get so sensitive, anyway, Joker?"

"Tell you like I told Shepard: I'm there for you, but up here. At the helm. With my stuff."

"Your 'stuff?' Glad to know NnB is moving up in your estimation. Propose yet?"

For the first time since I'd known him, the pilot visibly blanched and said, hurriedly, "It's not like that, man. More like she covers my ass, and I cover hers."

Before I could point out that his choice of words wasn't doing him any favors, the ever-calm voice of the AI chimed in. "Officer Moreau…"

"Yes, EDI, I _know_. You don't have an ass. It's a figure of speech." He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to me. "So, are you going to apologize to her or what?"

"Why should _I_ apologize? _She's_ the one that interfered with the goal of the mission."

"Dude, let me tell you a little secret about human women: You're always wrong, they're always right. Sooner you realize that, the better."

"That seems a little…"

"One-sided? Stupid? Unfair? Damn right it is. But it's how things work."

"I didn't have to apologize first last time."

"She wasn't in love with you last time."

"And _there_ , right there, is the fallacy in your logic," I said. "She's never said she was in love with me."

"Don't be a dick, Vakarian. You're not that stupid. I've served with Shepard for long enough to tell you that if she's not in love with you, you're the closest she'll ever get."

"Damnit, Joker, listen…" My well-rehearsed argument was cut off.

"No, _you_ listen," the ever sarcastic temperament had disappeared, only to be replaced instantaneously by the completely serious demeanor he usually reserved for missions. "Shepard would never have risked your relationship without a _very_ good reason. You're more important to her than just about anything, and if you can't see that then you're an idiot and don't deserve her, anyway."

Part of me was taken aback at this protective streak of Joker's, but I did my best not to let it show. "I've never denied that," I pointed out. "In fact, I'm usually the one saying the exact same thing."

He rolled his eyes, finally fully turning his chair to face me completely. Instead of addressing me, however, he spoke to his electronic partner in crime. "EDI?"

"Yes, Officer Moreau?"

"Do you still have a copy of the message Shepard received after Horizon?"

"Yes. Would you like for me to retrieve it?"

"Uh-huh, and forward it to Vakarian."

"Joker, if Shepard finds out you've been reading her mail…" He shrugged as my 'tool pinged, and with trepidation I opened the message, only to be greeted by the unmistakable words and phrasing of Kaidan Alenko.

_Shepard,_

_I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the_ Normandy. _It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I'd finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to have a life again, you know?_

_Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don't know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me… maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in two years and I just can't put that aside._

_But please be careful. I've watched too many people close to me die. On Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the_ Normandy. _I couldn't bear it if I lost you again. If you're still the woman I remember I know you'll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself._

_When things settle down a little… maybe… I don't know. Just take care._

_Kaidan_

"Joker, what the hell does this have to do with anything?" I was angry all over again, but this time at that man's audacity to imply that Shepard had been insensitive to _his_ plight. "Are you _trying_ to prove she's got options a little closer to home out there?"

"No, you over-grown armadillo, I'm trying to prove that if she _wanted_ that, she has her pick. She told him to go screw himself, though I think I'll let _her_ tell you exactly how she did that. It was fucking _hilarious_." He shook his head with a manic grin at the memory of whatever it was Shepard had done in response to the biotic's insolence.

"Joker…" I said warningly.

"Yeah, I know. Get to the point. The point is that whether she's right or wrong, you've got something half the galaxy has been after since Akuze, and you're ready to throw it away over some damn little disagreement."

The world dissolved into a blue haze for a fraction of a second as I growled, "It wasn't some _little_ …"

"Okay, fine. Let's pretend you get your way, and she gets over you without killing you. Could you ever look at her with another man and not want to kill _him_? I hear she's gotten pretty cozy with that drell since your argument. Just think on that for a little while."

This time, I knew he was bluffing, simply because I knew things he didn't about the Commander. "Krios is too much like her to ever be appealing. Believe me, that much I know."

Joker would not be so easily diverted, it would seem, as he replied without a moment's hesitation. "All right. So if not him, then someone else. I'll put it this way, if I may be so bold as to paraphrase one of Shepard's movies, 'One day, you may have to live with the realization that someone else is married to _your_ girl.'"

"Are you kidding me, Joker? _When Harry Met Sally?_ "

"The _very_ fact that you knew the movie I was paraphrasing proves how far gone for her you really are. No man is going to willingly watch a chick flick, much less _quote_ it, unless he's head over heels."

I opened my mouth to refute his claims, but found I couldn't. This only made me more angry, but in a different way than I had been when I'd arrived in the cockpit. I looked at him, and his stupid, smug smile, and said, "I fucking hate you sometimes."

"Stand in line. But you know I'm right. She's a highly sought-after commodity in this galaxy, and for some inexplicable reason, she's got the hots for _you_. DO something about it, Vakarian, or someone else will be more than happy to take your place."

* * *

_Biotic Abilities and Their Many Uses…_ The datapad in my hands was on page fifteen of the book, and I _still_ hadn't been able to get myself to sleep. No matter _how_ boring biotic informational texts were to me, it still couldn't drag my train of thought away from the last mission.

Pragia. The place of Jack's tormented childhood, and the last place I would ever have expected Shepard to willingly go in light of her own past.

As the _Normandy_ had entered the Nubian Expanse, Jack had gotten twitchy, but not nearly as jumpy as she was on the shuttle to the jungle-covered planet.

" _I forgot how much I hate this place," Jack says, eyes moving warily from one window to the other. "See the landing pad? Has to be on the roof, or the vegetation would overgrow it in a few hours."_

_My comm crackles to life, filled with the voice of our AI, "Shepard, I am picking up heat signatures everywhere, except at your landing zone."_

_Teandra hesitates a second, thinking, then says, "Something's distorting the sensors."_

" _Well, this_ was _a secret Cerberus facility," I respond. "Makes sense they'd have the equipment to stay hidden."_

" _Yeah, they built their equipment to last," Jack says bitterly, and I have to wonder if she's referring to the facility or her own body. "Assholes. It was a mistake coming back here, Shepard."_

_The redhead places a hand on the biotic's shoulder, saying, "Get a hold of yourself, it'll be okay."_

The rain had felt weird, almost like the sudden storms of the jungles I'd spent my entire two years of basic training enduring. Teandra had seemed at home, though, her face turned up into the downpour with a small smile gracing her features. It occurred to me that I'd never seen her in the rain before, or even thought to ask about what kind of weather she liked.

That line of thought had brought back the conversation I'd had with Joker, which served to piss me off all over again. I irritably told myself it didn't matter what kind of weather _my commander_ liked, and got back to looking for threats in our immediate vicinity.

I kicked myself later, as her smile had only lasted until we entered the reception room of the facility; after that, _none_ of us were smiling.

" _I never saw this room," Jack says, weapon never even coming near its holster. "I think they brought new kids in in these containers. They were messed up and starving, but alive. Usually."_

_I stare at the metal boxes, hardly large enough to hold a fully-grown varren, and tried to imagine a human child being shipped in such a vessel. Nowhere to get rid of excrement, no food, no water, and probably without enough space to even stretch out fully. It was savage, and cruel, and…_

" _This is… unbelievable," I say, still in shock. Shepard has always been very open with me about her disdain for her own species, but I've always tried to make myself think of her childhood as an isolated event. Could it even be possible that a species would commit such atrocities upon its own kind on a regular basis? Especially on defenseless_ children _?_

We found several work logs as we wound our way through the abandoned and broken down facility, and the information all pointed to the same thing: The project had gone rogue (though I had no doubt the Illusive Man would have encouraged their work so long as there were results to show for it), and that the children had grown tired of their treatment at the scientists' hands.

Tired enough to revolt. Pissed enough to cause a riot, and fight back, just like any self-respecting species would. They were just kids, but they were kids those sadistic bastards had been training to fight, pumping them with drugs to encourage them to engage each other. Turians were naturally combative, yes, but had the good sense to wait until childhood was mostly over with before turning their offspring into (well-disciplined) warriors. These people were turning younglings into mindless killing machines. It was _sickening_ , watching Jack relive the horrors of her young life.

None of it, though, was as heart-wrenching as watching Shepard fight her own memories as she tried to give Jack the strength to fight hers.

Of all the things I knew about Teandra Shepard, it was that her life was filled with events and moments most of the people who knew her truly didn't even want to comprehend. She'd been abused in every way a person could be, conditioned to kill against her will, trained almost from puberty to avoid emotional attachments at all cost, lest they interfere with the mission parameters. She hated what she was, what she'd been forced to become, and yet was proud of the skills that life had given her. She fought her indoctrination, yet still strove to use her abilities to save the galaxy, one disaster at a time.

Those memories plagued her more than she'd admit to anyone. She woke to nightmares at least five nights a week, sometimes more often, but I would be surprised to learn anyone was privy to that information except me. (Okay, perhaps EDI, but the AI didn't really count.) For whatever reason, she found my presence especially comforting on those nights, and more than once a late night chess match had been the result of her interrupted sleep cycle. She said the imitation of true strategy helped to relax her mind, and I idly wondered how she had been coping the last ten days, considering.

Our continuing exploration had revealed even more depravity; a morgue big enough to hold hundreds of small bodies, and experimentation tables that were obviously meant to dissect the dead and examine their tissue. Five by five cells that were only slightly larger than the crates the younglings had been shipped in to start with _(They kept children here?),_ with no amenities within them. More logs trying to explain away the disgusting practices of the Cerberus cell stationed here. The further we went, the more angry at the whole damn situation I became. Things like this… should not exist. It went against everything I believed about how the galaxy should work, how species should treat each other, much less themselves.

The girls both seemed just as upset as I was, but disoriented, too. Jack probably described it best.

" _It's so strange to be back here. I feel like… I'm pissed off. I'm a dangerous bitch. But then I'm a little girl again. Shit, it's complicated…"_

She sounded like Teandra did every time she talked about Finch. Like she was ready to kill, and collapse into a helpless ball, all at the same time.

I'd never realized, before that day, exactly how alike those two very different women were. When given experiences that would have broken most individuals I knew, of _any_ species, both had survived. Jack out of sheer stubbornness, and a belief that everything she endured could teach her easier ways to shoot first and ask questions later, caging herself in a steel armor plate of apathy. Shepard, on the other hand, had somehow turned her hatred into an advantage, learning that each obstacle made her that much stronger, gave her one more new skill. She used it to set herself free of her past, one new hurdle at a time.

Two very different women; yet, two sides of the very same chit.

" _You don't get it, Shepard. I survived this place because I was tougher than the rest. That's who I am."_

" _Did you miss the barcode on the back of my neck? Manticore got to me, too."_

" _Shepard, what the hell are you…"_

" _Nevermind, I'm just saying… You move on, harder and tougher. That's how you tell the world to fuck off."_

I had kept silent through most of the facility, knowing that to speak would be to give into the distracting emotion that gripped the girls. Everything came to a head, though, when we reached the room where Jack planned to plant our bomb: Her old room. It wasn't empty, instead, holding someone else the facility just refused to allow to move on.

" _My name is Aresh…" The man is unshaven and unclean, having obviously not showered in weeks. "I tried to forget this. But a place like this, it doesn't forget you. It follows you. I'm going to find out what they knew. How to unlock true biotic potential in humans, I'm restarting the Teltin facility. It will be beautiful."_

" _Maybe the others did have it bad," Jack says, pistol still out and shaking slightly, "but what you're doing is just messed."_

" _Everything we went through must have been worth something!" He is almost screaming now, his view on what the two of them endured clashing with hers. She fights against it, but he isn't that strong, and has to justify it just to maintain some semblance of sanity._

" _Just leave me here. This is where I belong," he says finally, turning back to the two way mirror in her room as if he can find his answers there. But he underestimates the young renegade he's been arguing with, hasn't accounted for the fact that she has never handled anything calmly in her life. She knocks him down in a display of biotic fury, bringing him to his knees with no resistance from her victim. As she extends her pistol once again, sighting down the small scope as she widens her stance, I realize that this must be what Shepard saw when I did the same to Harkin: Helpless victim, unable to defend himself against the much more powerful but unstable bully attacking him._

 _How could she_ not _have interfered? How could I ever have doubted her judgment?_

" _Fuck that!" Our biotic screams, trigger finger twitching._

_Teandra rushes to speak before Jack can put the last bit of pressure on that small piece of metal. "He's trapped in his past. You need to move on from yours."_

Physician, heal thyself _, I think bitterly, and more than a little unfairly._

" _He wants to restart this place," Jack snarls. "He needs to die!"_

" _He's crazy, and he's never going to restart this facility," the Commander rushes on again. "You have to let it go. Your past doesn't have to control you."_

_And there she has it, the manipulation phrase she needs to win this fight. The idea that anyone or anything could control her is an idea so abhorrent to Jack that she can never take any action that would imply otherwise._

" _Fuck!" Jack hesitates one more second, then screams at the man in front of her, "Get out of here. GO!" She holsters her pistol vehemently, shaking her head as if still unsure she made the right decision._

_I know just how she feels._

" _Nothing's changed… but it's all different." The biotic looks around the small room, though it is larger than the cells the other children had been kept in._

" _It always is. Your perception becomes different, but not the source material. It screws with your head."_

 _She glances at a desk, commenting, "I used this table for everything. It was like my best friend. I'd crawl under it to cry. I was pathetic." I can't help but remember Teandra's words about Finch:_ Tears cost me a day back on the leash. I learned quickly that crying wasn't an option.

 _The biotic moves on to the bed, saying, "Sometimes I dream that I'm back in this bed being tortured. I used to tie the sheets around my wrists and try to rip them off. I wanna stop coming back here." Again, Tandy's words seemed to match the girl's:_ He tried to take the life out of me, and leave… a killer. Nothing but a mindless killer! I never want to be that again.

Those were the thoughts that had occupied me all the way back to the shuttle, remembering how beaten Shepard had been as Cerberus increased its hold on her. What would have happened if I hadn't been there, if her depression had been able to swallow her whole?

Looking at the last mission, all I could think was, if not for me, _that_ is what the Commander would have become. Once I realized that, I couldn't be mad anymore. The ability to do so left me at the idea of my Teandra becoming such a hate-filled creature as the biotic we were there to help.

_Jack flicks the safety cover on the detonation device rhythmically, waiting to make the final move. Shepard watches her, and soon the pair match gazes in silent agreement. Jack stops the measured clicking of the cap, thumb poised over the red button. As if on cue, Shepard hits the door of the shuttle, letting the driver know to step on it._

_Immediately, Jack hits the button, and the shockwave rocks the shuttle, dislodging Shepard from the seat next to me. Reflexively, I reach out, steadying her as I brace my other hand against the wall of the small vessel. It's the first time I've willingly touched her since the Citadel, and she seems almost more grateful for that than me preventing her head from hitting the ceiling as a result of the blast._

"Officer Vakarian?" EDI intruded on my recollections, causing me to shake my head violently as I stared once again at page fifteen.

"What do you want now, NnB?" I rubbed my eyes with the heel of one hand, finally shutting the pad off in disgust as I awaited her answer.

"Tali'Zorah has requested your presence in the cargo hold."

I sighed, tucking the datapad under an arm as I stood.

"I'll be right down."

When I walking into the cargo hold, however, it was not the woman I expected to be there.

"Shepard, what are you…?" She was in her green sparring top and shorts, but ceased her katas as I entered.

"I could ask you the same question," she responded evenly. "Krios had requested I come show him some of the assassination techniques I was taught…"

We both stopped, staring at each other in complete disbelief for a moment.

"That's it. We're doomed," she laughed, the sound strained but sincere. "The whole damn crew is in on this, so we should probably talk and get it over with."

"They're just tired of mommy and daddy fighting," I responded, drawing another laugh from her, this one less anxious than the last.

"Are you kidding? I had snarky comments from _Matthews_ this morning about being mean to you. So glad to know you've made such a _great_ impression on my crew."

"Okay then…" I said, gesturing to a nearby spectator chair, taking the one across from her as she sat. "You wanna talk? Then let's talk, little Spectre."

I'll be _damned_ if I knew why she grinned so widely at my words, but I was glad to see it nonetheless.

Really glad to see it.

 


	12. Points of Contention

_Not walking away or playing your game_

_I let you take you best shot_

_Been through the rain_

_Suffered the pain_

_You know this fighter never stops_

 

Manafest - "Stones"

**Chapter 11- Points of Contention**

I took the seat across from her, setting the datapad on the floor beside me as I did so. She crossed, then uncrossed her arms nervously, finally rushing to speak before she lost the nerve.

"Look, Garrus. I know the mission didn't go the way you planned. But I think it was for the best."

"I'm not so sure, to be honest," I said truthfully, tilting my head somewhat as I fully considered where my thoughts now lay in regards to the whole situation.

"Give it time."

"Yeah. Maybe that'll be enough. I want to know I did the right thing. Not just for me. For my team. They deserved to be avenged. But when he was in my sights… I just couldn't do it."

"The lines between good and evil blur when we're looking at people we know." She seemed as if she were speaking from experience, and for the first time, it actually occurred to me that her action in Chora's Den two years before may not have been the easy kill it had appeared. Maybe it had been a bigger internal struggle than I had believed, and that wasn't something I had ever fully considered before. I know I would have had _no_ trouble ending _that_ man's life.

"It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Gray… I don't know what to do with gray."

"You'll learn, Garrus. Gray is where I operate most of my life. It's not such a bad place to be, if you give it a chance. Just go with your instincts."

"My _instincts_ are what got me into this mess," I said, but the bitterness I had felt since the Citadel was gone from the words.

"Don't be too hard on yourself." She drew her knees up into the chair, resting her chin lightly on them as she thought about what she was going to say next. "You were hurting, and confused, and didn't stop to get all the information. It happens to even the most logical and level-headed of us, especially when it comes to the people we care about." She grinned, "And say what you want, but when it comes to those _you_ care about, Garrus, you're more protective than a momma bear with her cubs."

Ignoring the fact that I had no _idea_ what a bear was, since context clues were more than enough to give me a fair guess, I said, "If you say so, Teandra."

"I'll make a deal with you, Garrus. Give it some more time, and Sidonis a chance to try to make amends. If, after this mission is over, he still needs shooting… I'll help you track him down again. Does that suit?"

I started, looking at her for a second in complete disbelief. "What in the hell? _Why?_ "

"I was never set against his demise, Garrus. He _was_ a traitor, by his own admission. I was set against you changing to bring about that demise. I didn't like what I saw; you're not usually that brutal."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not some cuddly stuffed animal, Shepard. I'm a turian and a warrior, neither of which is conducive to fluffiness." The fact that I had been just as brutal a cop as she seemed to think I wasn't was not lost on me, but that was then, and this was now. If nothing else, her presence in my life had tempered that angry edge.

For the most part.

"I get that. But there's a difference between servicing the targets in your scope and killing someone simply to enjoy the scent of their blood as he strikes the ground…" Her eyes glazed over for a minute, her gaze drifting off into space as she lost herself in whatever memory gripped her.

"Shepard?" I waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention away from her nightmare. "You worry me when you talk like that. I know you don't believe me, but that's not who you are anymore."

"Well, then you understand what I went through on that mission, don't you? You can't _ever_ become me, and when you start acting like it, I regret even considering letting you close."

"I'm a big boy, little Spectre. I've already said I can handle more than you think…"

"And yet, I'm a lot more experienced than even you know in the subtle arts of murder and persuasion."

"I've had my share of their acquaintance, as well. Would you like to hear how those gang leaders went down?" I wasn't sure I really wanted to tell her, but she needed to hear it. Needed to know what she was getting herself into if she and I were to seriously consider the path we had been trying to put ourselves on. It was all and good to follow our hormones to wherever they may lead, but at some point we were both going to have to stop and think about everything that had been keeping us apart in the first place, and decide how to overcome those obstacles. Things like politics were easily dismissed, considering the attitude we'd both tended towards since our reunion, but things like personal trauma and secret pasts were not so easy to ignore. If we were _ever_ going to get over this, going to consider ourselves anything more than what we currently were, it was going to have to be dealt with eventually.

"Actually, yes. I would like to hear some of your story. I'm sorry I was such an arrogant ass before, spending more time lecturing than listening."

"You're my commander. Lecturing is your job."

"I meant as your friend. I'm still that, aren't I?" I almost wanted to laugh, so much did she sound like a worried youngling as she spoke. But the real fear in her eyes stilled that urge, and I struggled to find the right words to put her at ease.

"By the Spirits, Shepard, I'm not going to abandon you over an argument. I might be pissed, but that doesn't mean I don't give a damn, or that our friendship has to suffer. We'll always be that, no matter what. I'm not sure either of us could abandon the other now no matter what happens, anyway."

She smiled, the expression again almost childlike in spite of the heaviness of the discussion, chin still propped on her knees. "Okay, so tell me about Garm, for starters. How did you take him out?"

I laughed, wondering if she _really_ wanted to hear about that particular hit. Finally, I sighed, and started talking.

"He had a tendency to celebrate a successful mission, with, shall we say, adult extracurriculars. I took advantage of his distraction."

She stopped, nose crinkling in thought as she tried to decipher my vague phrasing, before finally looking back at me and grinning even more widely than before. " _You,_ " she pointed at me accusingly, "are an asshole. Did you at least let him finish?"

"No. And strangely enough, that was _my_ exact thought at the time..."

As I finished the tale, and several others of my exploits in her absence, I felt a weight lift from my soul, as if I were purging the darkness that had gripped me so incessantly on that horrid rock. By the time I was done, we were friends once more.

* * *

"It's rather simple, really."

The scarred merc wasn't buying it. "Let me see if I 'ave this right: You want me to throw this little thing," he held up the squishy, blue sphere to his eye level, "against the wall, and bounce it over there. Then, one of 'em other fuckers is supposed to bounce it back? You're bloody jokin', right?"

The krogan at his left seemed to agree with him. "Shepard, this is the stupidest game I've ever heard of."

"You guys are being a bunch of babies," Jacob piped up from behind the group. "Hand ball is a great game!"

"You mean wall ball."

"No, I said it how I meant to say it: Hand ball." The Commander looked as if she were about to debate the point further, but the dark-skinned man quickly explained himself. "My dad's family is from Baltimore, and in Baltimore, it's called 'hand ball'. I'm guessing the geographic vernacular from your hometown labels it 'wall ball.'"

"Got it in one. You Yankees never could call anything by its proper name."

"Yankee?" Jacob moved around the others so that he was standing a few feet from the redhead. "Oh, hell no. It's on now, scalawag."

"Scalawag? There's old-school, and then there's ancient, Taylor. I think you need to get with the times."

He crossed his arms over his chest, grinning all the while. "You're giving _me_ shit for outdated references? I've heard your playlist, Commander; calling it 'ancient' would be polite."

"Oye! You two biddies done? If we're gonna be forced to do this, I'd like to get it the hell over with!" Zaeed tossed the ball at Taylor, who caught it without even looking.

"I still think this is a stupid game. Why are we doing this again?" If I didn't know any better, I would have said Grunt was _pouting._

Well, not to his face. I do understand the concept of self-preservation.

Teandra smiled. "It's supposed to help further build squad cohesion by using teamwork outside of a combat setting." Then, her smile turned impish. "And because I'm the Commander, which means what I say goes."

"A good game of _Warrior_ accomplishes the same thing," I pointed out.

"I said, 'non-combat setting,' Vakarian. Not to mention I am so sick of that game I could spit rivets."

The requisitions officer chimed in again to add, "I think you're Southern is showing, Commander."

She glared at Jacob as she said, "I'm so going to kick your ass for that, Taylor."

Before the conversation could derail further (again), I cut in, "So, that gets the separation of teams started. Taylor, stand over there, if you would." I pointed to the left side of the make-shift "court," which consisted of the starboard side of the main vehicle bay, and two specially-calibrated kinetic barriers to create a three-sided playing area. Normally, according to Teandra, wall ball (or hand ball, depending on your preference) was played with either one wall or four, and either one-on-one, or in teams of two to five.

The fact that we were playing with only three-fourths of a court should have been my first clue that something was going to go wrong.

* * *

"I still say this game is pointless, Shepard. The tank didn't say anything about games helping to prepare for battle."

"You're just scared we're going to kick you in all four of the daddy bags, aren't ya, you overgrown guard dog?" The brown-haired man was hopping from one foot to the other and flailing his arms about in some sort of awkward warm-up exercise. Or, so I assumed. He could have been having a stroke, and I probably wouldn't have known the difference.

Nearby, his female counterpart was sitting on the floor, performing some sort of leg stretch. "Ken, can we NOT antagonize the giant brick wall we're about to be playing against?"

"I was just 'avin a bit o' fun with him, Gabby. No need to take it so seriously."

"Well, someone has to," Gabby shot back. "I'd like you to keep all your limbs."

"Aw, Gabs, I dinna know ya cared so much."

"Hey, you can't do your job if you lose a hand. That means more work for me."

"Yeah, I bet it's his 'hand' she's worried about him losing," commented Hawthorne, which earned him a high-five from Matthews.

"No, Donnelly would be more worried about losing a hand than Daniels; he'd have to break in the other one for date night, otherwise."

"Oooh, good one, Sarah." The red-headed engineer grinned at Goldstien, who gave her a thumbs-up in return.

"Any time, Gabby."

I felt more than saw Teandra lean towards me as she said, "Good god, and they all say _we're_ bad."

"In what way? The smartass comments, or the 'partners without actually sleeping together' thing?"

"Both, though, in this group, I'm not sure whom would be sleeping with whom, anyway. And I'm not sure I'd want to know, either."

I snorted again, still somewhat amused by Shepard's second round team choices, especially her choice to put us on opposite sides to avoid what the others considered an 'unfair advantage.'

"You mean Ken and Gabby get to stay on the same team, but you and I don't?" I complained good naturedly, "That's not exactly fair."

"We gave you one round, and you wiped the floor with us," Jacob shot back. "It's like you each knew where the other one was without even looking. Telepathy is cheating."

"Hey Garrus, since when did turians become telepathic?" Teandra commented with a laugh, "I thought that was an asari thing."

"Didn't I tell you I'm one-fourth asari, on my mother's side? My mistake."

We shared a look, Shepard grinning, then she turned back to Kelly with a smirk. A half second later, she tossed the ball over her shoulder without looking, right into my open palm.

"Fine, you win. But no one gets to complain when Vakarian and I get competitive."

It was amazing, but the looks shared around that room were amusing to decipher. You could tell which of the crew had been to our morning matches, because no amount of professionalism could hide how we got when things were 'competitive.' Even Kelly seemed amused.

"We'll take our chances," came the chorused reply, though I wasn't actually sure who responded.

"Okay then. Vakarian, who do you want?"

"I'll take Jacob. He's got an arm on him, to say the least."

"Then I get Jack."

The distribution of teams continued in that way, ending with us all lined up across from each other, and the competition began anew.

* * *

"Your serve, Grunt."

The adolescent krogan picked up the regulation blue ball and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. Then, he assumed the stance Jacob and Teandra had taught him at the very beginning of this exercise and drew his arm back.

"I am KROGAN!"

He threw the ball with all of his considerable strength, and it landed square in the middle of the center wall. The angle with which it bounced to the floor, coupled with the speed with which it was moving, however, sent the ball ricocheting wildly against the right-hand wall, and up to the ceiling of the vehicle bay. Every tech in the room was following the cerulean blur as it bounced, unchecked, and it wasn't long before Shepard, being technically adept herself, had run the numbers and figured out the most likely outcome.

She gasped audibly, yelling "Hit the deck!" Most of us dropped, used to the fact that when Shepard yells for you to get down, you do it or risk losing a body part. Either to her for disobeying the order, or to a wayward projectile. In this case, it was the latter.

Initially, I thought she was over-reacting. I wasn't questioning her calculations, but, come on, it was a small, squishy ball, for Spirits' sake. _How much damage could it possibly do?_

The answer came in the form of a startled shout, followed by a metalic thud. "By the fucking bloody hordes of Torfan!"

 _Apparently, a lot,_ I thought sardonically, rolling my eyes as I regained my feet. The merc's muffled cursing continued as he held the side of his head. All eyes were on Zaeed, which is why no one noticed that the ball was still moving, though at a slower speed, until Tali shouted, "Keel'ah!"

Teandra, Jacob, Miranda, and myself all turned toward the sound, just in time to see the ball stop in midair, surrounded by a sphere of indigo-blue. Tali was kneeling on the floor, not having made it all the way up from where she'd sprawled to follow Shepard's command.

"Worry not, Tali'Zorah. I would not let you come to harm." The Justicar, whom had been sitting on the sidelines, meditating, was not as oblivious to what was going on around her as she appeared. Her eyes were still closed, her expression serene, yet she'd managed to use her biotics to keep that rubber projectile from smacking the quarian straight in the faceplate.

And, I swear to you, the matriarch hadn't even moved an _millimeter._

"You crazy goddamn asari! Why didn't you do that ten bloody seconds ago?" Massani now had a nurse, in the form of the yeoman. She was busy checking his head over, with what seemed to be a certain amount of medical familiarity, but Zaeed was scowling at Samara with contempt.

"That's a good question, actually," Teandra said, though she seemed much more amused than upset, if the grin that was playing at the corner of her lips was any indication.

"There were lessons that the man needed to learn. Lessons that, as far as I can see, our young quarian learned long ago, and lives by to this day."

If anything, Shepard's grin got wider. "Care to share?"

"The first is, the chain of command exists for a reason. Or, to put it more bluntly, 'The Commander gave an order, and you ignored it. Accept the consequences.' This time, it is a headache; next time, it could be much, much worse.

"Secondly, if I do not know I can rely on him to keep me safe in battle, why should I expend the energy necessary to protect him? It would be better spent on one who will, as you say, 'Have my back.'" She opened her eyes, finally, and looked at Tali. "This one knows that going alone often works both ways."

"You bloody bitch..." he started towards her, right hand still on his head, only to be stopped by Kelly's hand on his arm.

"Let's go, Zaeed. We need to get you to Chakwas. You might have a concussion." The grizzled veteran would usually have scoffed at this, but Kelly was playing on every old soldiers weakness: Pretty, attentive females. Once again, it struck me that this girl was _much_ more clever than most of the crew gave her credit for. Especially as Zaeed turned with a muttered, "Not worth my fuckin' time, anyway," as he followed Kelly to the elevator.

* * *

"Another point for us. Guess all the conditioning in the world can't beat genetic perfection."

"Look here, Princess. I've been listening to your crap long enough today. Back the hell off."

"Jack…" I heard Shepard start to say, only to have the biotic round on her.

"What, Mrs. High-and-Mighty? You got something to add?"

"What, did you take an extra dose of your PMS pill today, Jack-Jack?"

"No bitch, I'm going on a 'slap the shit out of stupid people' spree. And since it sounds like you woke up without your common sense this morning, you should probably stay the hell away from me. Now, can I get back to kicking the Snow-Queen's ass?"

There was in collective intake of breath around the room, quiet falling as everyone watched for Teandra's reaction. She hesitated a second, head tilted with an empty expression, before finally cracking a dangerous smile as she said, "I don't think so. But she's my crew member, so you're welcome to fight me. You wanna challenge me, Zero?"

"Yeah. That sounds like the perfect afternoon to me, Shepard: Kicking your reconstructed ass."

If the reference to her resurrection caused her any discomfort, Teandra didn't let it show.

"Shepard," Miranda said, "I don't think…"

"Quiet Miranda. If you and Jack get into it, the hull might not survive the reprisal. Otherwise, I'd let you two have at it and clear the air." She turned back to Jack, continuing in a voice somewhere between amused and angry, "Alright, name the time and place."

"How 'bout right here, right now?"

I watched as Shepard's stance changed, her body tensing as if worried the unstable girl would attack her without preamble. "Weapon?" she asked.

The tattooed woman gave a maniacal grin, spitting back with malicious glee, "Biotics only."

There were a series of gasps around the room, and those who were unaware of our Commander's lack of biotic power were soon filled in by their neighbors as to exactly how underhanded Jack's move really was.

There were only a few that seemed completely unconcerned by the trick, one of which was Shepard.

"Fine, but I get thirty minutes to prepare."

Jack scoffed, "Why, you got a stash of red sand somewhere you think will save you?"

"Not quite. Thirty minutes. Mordin, come with me, please." The irony of the matter being that the scientist was one of the _others_ that seemed unconcerned. She stopped, looking around the room as she barked a few more last minute instructions, "Kasumi: You're going to be the referee, so be prepared. You only intervene if one of us admits defeat, and not before. Got it?" The thief nodded, albeit slowly, which seemed to satisfy the redhead, as she moved on to the Justicar. "Samara, you're going to have to put up a biotic barrier to keep us from ripping the hull to shreds. Ask Krios or Lawson for help if need be. Every little bit may count."

"As you wish, Shepard." Oddly, every single person she'd just spoken to, except for Kasumi, was being extremely nonchalant about this entire situation. It was almost as if...

_They know something the rest of us don't… dammit, I HATE being left in the dark!_

The Commander shot me a look on the way out the door as I moved to follow, passing Chambers on her way back in from dropping Zaeed in the medbay. The look was one that clearly said, " _Stay here. Keep them from killing each other_." I nodded my assent, as uncertain as it was. We had an audience, and I wasn't stupid enough to say anything in front of so many.

Later, after it was all said and done, though? Yeah, we were going to have a little chat.

* * *

A strange conversation came to my attention as I waited impatiently for Teandra to return. Two crew-mates were discussing who to put their money on in this fight. They weren't the only ones, either; to pass the time, no less than half the crew was placing their bets with Matthews, who'd become the impromptu bookie for this charade.

"Hey Flip, you bet on Shepard, and I'll bet on Jack," Navigator Connors, in an excited voice, said from somewhere to my right. He sounded as if he felt he'd had the best idea ever in the history of ideas.

"What? Why?" Flip's, or rather, Engineer Gregson's response was much less enthusiastic.

"So, whoever wins, we still have money! Then, we split it."

"But... wouldn't that bring us back to our original amount?"

Connors seemed to think about this for a minute, considering, before finally replying, "...maybe."

Flip shook his head, saying, "And you wonder why your mother nicknamed you Weirdo."

I snorted, thinking, _Forget Flip and Weirdo. More like Donut and Caboose._

"Hey, Weirdo is a way better name than Flip!"

For fear that yet another conversation in the cargo bay would end in a brawl, I cut in with the first thing I could think of to get their attention: "Why do they call you Flip, anyway?"

Connors smirked. "Yeah, Gregson. Why don't you show everyone why they call you that."

"That's not fair. No one ever asks you to demonstrate why they call you 'Weirdo.'"

Ken, having gotten his second wind after the earlier round of embarrassment, added, "Yeah, but does that really _need_ demonstratin'?"

In unison, Sarah, Gabby, and Kelly all declared, " _No_."

The blonde man sputtered, "Hey! We're supposed to be talking about Flip, remember?"

Gregson sighed. "Have I mentioned how much I hate you?"

"Not today. Now, get to it. You know you want to!"

Shooting his friend a glare that could melt through the Hammerhead, the engineer walked several steps away to an area not crowded with people. Taking a deep breath, he bent his knees, and put his arms out in front of him, parallel with the floor. Then, without warning, he sprang into a standing back flip, landing squarely on his feet once he was right side up again.

A hush fell over the crowd in our immediate vicinity as Gregson walked back towards us. He simply looked at the navigator with a sour expression on his face, and said, "There. Happy now?"

To be quite honest, I was rather impressed with this, how did Joker put it? Right, 'stupid human trick.' And may it be noted that I found that to be a misnomer, as this certainly wasn't stupid. If turians could do things like that, there were a multitude of practical applications to be had. Unfortunately, turians just didn't move that way, and I'd never seen any humans do such a thing before, either.

I'd had a sparring partner or two that came close to that level of flexibility, but not quite.

"Dude! That was _totally awesome!"_ Crewman Hadley, apparently, shared my sentiment.

"Yeah, its his only 'impress the girls' move." Connors looked smug, though I really couldn't understand why.

"At least I _have_ a move, Weirdo. Your only superpower is making people feel awkward."

Goldstien, Hadley, Hawthorne, Matthews, Donnelly and Daniels all burst into laughter at the same time, which resulted in a triumphant grin from Flip, and dejected grumbling from Weirdo.

* * *

Thirty minutes, almost to the second, later, the sparring ring was packed by almost every member of the crew who wasn't working on anything mission critical. The wall-ball session had been a pretty big affair for everyone, but this was even better as far as they were concerned.

" _Hey Vakarian,"_ I heard Joker say over my comm, " _Just thought I'd let you know I've got EDI recording the little girl fight. For posterity, of course."_ I just shook my head, wondering what Teandra had up her sleeve all over again.

Jack had been pacing the ring like a caged varren, tossing a ball of biotic energy back and forth from hand to hand with no sign of her abilities weakening, as was usual with any other biotic. _I don't care_ what _she has planned, without some sort of martial skill to back her, I'm not seeing how she can_ survive _this fight, much less_ win _against Jack._ And yet the thought felt traitorous, the idea that she could take out Saren but would lose to some girl with an 'I'm a badass' complex completely ridiculous.

Then again, Jack didn't seem like to type to be talked into suicide, either.

Finally, Teandra entered the room once again, having not even bothered to change out of her sparring outfit from the wall-ball match.

 _You're not even going to put on_ armor _? Yeah, we're_ _ **definitely**_ _going to chat after this._ Outside of that, though, the only difference I could see was a slight pinching of her face at the bridge of her nose, as if she had the beginnings of a headache…

My omnitool pinged just as the doors closed, a very brief message from Shepard.

_Hey, didn't want you to worry too much. Cerberus gave me an L-4 implant in the upgrades, and I've been waiting for a reason to use it. Now's as good as ever, I guess, and hopefully I can teach that girl a lesson in reading your enemy, as well. Here's to hoping my training on speed that Finch beat into me holds out until I get my one chance to use it. It's all I'll get, 'cause I don't have the biotic stamina for much more than a sucker punch._

_Little Spectre._

_P.S. By the way, I'm probably going to need help getting to my room, so don't make any plans for later… *snort*_

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her flippant words, my fears only slightly assuaged. _This is still completely crazy… Jack is way too powerful for this kind of pissing match._

She waved off the salarian who'd followed in on her heels, muttering something even I couldn't catch over the din. He nodded, smiling, and she glanced at me long enough to see my nod, letting her know I'd received her message. Then, she looked back to her opponent.

"All prettied up, _Commander_?" Jack asked, but Shepard only nodded, completely focused on the upcoming confrontation.

The fact Teandra wasn't dishing out any trash talk _really_ wasn't helping my blood pressure any.

She looked like she did before any major battle, like she knew if she didn't give it her all, someone would get hurt. _Maybe I'm not giving her enough credit,_ I thought, only to have that idea trail off as Jack gave a scream, sending a shockwave at Shepard as she started to take a runner's stance. Her face pinched in surprise, and she dodged just in time, only to have Jack fire a pull attack at her directly on the heels of the first. I would have sworn it hit her, and yet the silver of her top moved to the left, just outside of the field of the blue wave.

_You know, it's one thing to experience that unreal speed when I'm fighting against her, with my own speed to counter it. But from the outside, as an observer? It is just amazing to see her move like that._

Jack wasn't as awed as I was, though. "Stand still, you little bitch. You think I'm going to tire out? I can do this all day."

"So can I, but that's not the idea," Shepard retorted, eyes narrowed as she smiled slightly, "The point is to teach you a lesson about combat."

Jack, annoyed by the conversation, rolled left and fired another shockwave, again only missing Teandra by inches as she jumped out of the way. It was at that moment, in a hand-to-hand fight, that she would have attacked the biotic. You could almost see her schooling the instinct to do so, instead choosing to continue her rolling dodge until it put her back onto her feet, "What makes you so sure you have this in the bag?"

"Shut up, bitch," she retorted, fire in her eyes as her power rebuilt. "I'm more powerful than you, so the win isn't in question."

"You may be right, but then again…" the redhead dropped to the ground, hair flying, and rolled out of range with the next blast, "you underestimate people if they don't _appear_ to be a threat. It'll get you killed."

If nothing else, the fact that Jack hadn't managed to land a blow yet was playing in the Commander's favor, but it wouldn't win her the match. Jack was going to have to concede, and no amount of talking was going to cut it.

The redhead regained her feet, but not quick enough, and this time the tail end of the next shockwave caught her, causing her to grunt in pain. If we'd been in any other setting, she probably would have screamed, but she wouldn't allow herself that weakness with this battle for pride going on.

"It won't get me killed today, bitch." Instead of moving in for the 'killing' tag, Jack held back, gloating over the slowly standing form of the Commander.

"I never said so…" Teandra panted, favoring her left arm a bit, "but it _will_ get you hurt, Jack."

"I'm not afraid of pain," the biotic snarled, hitting her enemy with another blast. This time, it struck the other woman full force, throwing her backwards into the kinetic barrier our other biotics were keeping up.

She slumped down at the edge, breathing heavy again as she once more slowly got to her feet. "Nor am I, Zero. Pain is an old friend of mine, so I can take anything you can dish out."

"Wanna bet?" The contempt in Jack's voice was palpable, and clearly visible as she slammed Shepard into the wall once more. Anyone else, by now, would have been in traction, and I could only blame the skin weaves and cybernetic enhancements our employers had given her for her still conscious state.

This time, as she tried to stand, her left leg wouldn't hold her weight, and it was all I could do not to enter the ring and come to her rescue. This was madness, but I had to believe that she had a plan. _Had_ to, or I'd lose it. Miranda, however, seemed to think the same thing, because she started to step forward, only to have Teandra shoot her a glare.

"I haven't called the match yet, Lawson. I'm still in this." The pain in her voice said otherwise, but Jack seemed to agree.

"That's right, Princess," Jack adding, shooting Miranda a glare of her own, "I'm not done kicking your precious Commander's ass yet."

As the biotic flicked her gaze to Miranda, in the millisecond that she took her eyes from the woman in front of her, _that_ is when Shepard took her cue.

With a guttural scream, she lifted her hand, striking the woman in front of her with a wave of blue that rivaled Jack's own. The tattooed woman was lifted up into the air, striking the top of the biotic containment field, then slammed down full force into the ground at Shepard's feet, screaming in rage and pain. That one blast of energy seemed to wipe the redhead out completely. She slumped to the ground next to the quickly-recovering biotic, the latter's gaze holding nothing but hate as she stood once again.

" _That_ was a mistake, bitch."

"Yeah, I have a history of those," Shepard laughed through her agony, "but I got my point across."

"Your _point?_ " The biotic was holding dark energy in her hands again, hand held back as if she needed no provocation to release it on the slumped form of the Commander.

"Yes, my point. You looked away, underestimated me because you assumed you knew my abilities…"

"Do I look like I give a FUCK about your lessons?" The ball grew, pulsing, and for a moment it looked as if she would kill the woman at her feet. Not that this notion stopped Teandra.

Such things rarely did.

"Nope, but here's the other half of my point: You never continue a battle against a stronger opponent. So... you win."

"That's the match, people!" Miranda cried in a rush, as if determined to end the carnage before Shepard changed her mind.

The movement from the crowd was instantaneous, cheering and muttered oaths as the betters reconciled themselves to the outcome. Jack's arm fell to her side, the anger falling from her face to be replaced by confusion as she stared at Teandra, my approach behind her going unnoticed.

"I win? What? That's not the fucking battle I wanted; it's not a real win if you quit!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not one of your childhood opponents, Jack-Jack. I don't have any drugs in my system, a problem that will be rectified as soon as Chakwas sees my newest round of injuries." I helped her to her feet, shuddering as I felt Jack bleed off the biotic energy she'd been holding at the ready.

"You decide you want to talk some more, Jack, come find me." Shepard was leaning heavily on my arm as we moved towards the elevator. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find another woman who's probably going to want to kick my ass."

We made our way to the elevator, leaving Jack to a crowd of cheering fans as we did so. Several of the crew made as if to join us, only to back away from the closing doors at my glare.

"It's okay, Garrus. I'm fine."

"No you're not, you idiot. You've got a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder, if your movements are any indication."

"Easy fixes…"

"That's not the point. She could have killed you!"

"But she didn't, did she?"

"Teandra, did you take a lesson or two from that volus? Because claiming to be a biotic god doesn't make you one."

She laughed at that, the movement causing her breath to hitch. "I got my point across, and kept Miranda's head attached to her shoulders."

"I'd rather see her go down than see you get hurt like this."

"Why Garrus, I didn't know you cared so much." Her tone was flippant, and I glared down at her where she was propped on my arm.

"Teandra, I'm not kidding. I do a pretty damn good job of letting you take care of yourself, in spite of some very protective instincts, but you can't keep testing their limits like this."

"Protective instincts?" Her eyes were wary as she voiced the question, causing me to smile.

"Nothing too serious, little Spectre. Remember this morning when you were talking about me being as ferocious as a mother, what did you say? Bear?" She nodded, "Well, that tendency is a way of building clan loyalty. When a person who is considered part of the clan is in danger, it causes those who feel kinship to that individual to rush to their defense…"

"Like wolves again. That's kind of funny. So if Jack had been giving Tali crap instead of Miranda…"

"I'd have seen your defense as a natural reaction, and probably wouldn't have felt so protective, though I'd have _also_ probably been inclined to challenge that girl, myself."

"Glad to know we're on the same page with my 'XO' at least," she laughed, then groaned as she held a hand to her side. The elevator pinged at the same time, and I shook my head as she started trying to walk out under her own power.

"I don't think so. I'm adding cracked rib to that collection of injuries." I scooped her up, causing her to yelp.

"That hurts, dumbass! Now put me down!" That yelp had sounded more like indignation than pain, so I ignored her and kept walking.

"Garrus, I _said_ put me down."

"Or what?"

She didn't seem to have an answer to that, and by the time she seemed ready to speak, we were already in the medbay. I deposited her lightly onto the nearest bed, the same I had occupied so soon after I had come aboard, receiving an amused nod from Chakwas as I did so.

"I had a warning you would be heading my way. I was not expecting such a regal entrance, however."

"What can I say, doc? You know me: I like to show up with style, and hot, turian boy-toys are all the rage this year."

I crossed my arms, raising an eye ridge at her, and she repeated her laugh/groan combination. "Sorry, Garrus. Guess in your case it would be _man_ -toy."

"Wow, you're not even on pain meds yet, Shep." There was another yelp, and Chakwas stepped away from her still-seated patient, empty auto-injector in hand.

"She is now, and if this is the mood she's currently displaying, perhaps you should consider exiting until she is more lucid."

"Wow… I'm definitely fine _now,_ " Shepard said, laying back, and I couldn't resist getting in a barb as the sedative kicked in.

"Yeah, well, _I_ know what F.I.N.E. stands for now, so I can agree with that statement." I turned to the doc, "You're the medical expert, but I'm pretty sure she's got at least one bruised or cracked rib, a sprained ankle, and damage to her bad shoulder."

My omnitool pinged, catching my attention where it had wandered back to the redhead. I glanced down at the blue light, however, starting at the name on the heading.

"I need to take this," I said to Chakwas, eyes flicking to the quickly-slackening features of the Commander. "Will you let me know if there is any change in her condition?"

"Of course, Officer Vakarian," she said with a precise nod, already bustling about her charge.

I gave her a mock salute, which earned me a chuckle, and stopped only long enough to touch a finger to Teandra forehead as I headed for the exit. "See you when you wake up, little Spectre."

"G'night, _afeni,_ " she yawned, eyes closing, and I started to see myself out, only to be caught by Chakwas.

"What was that she just called you?"

I turned toward the ship's physician, musing, "You know, I'm not sure what it means, actually. Never thought to ask her."

I continued out the door, only to hear EDI say over my earpiece, " _Afeni_. A word from the human dialect of Swahili, native to Earth's East Africa. Roughly translated, it means 'dear one.'"

"Thank you, NnB." I murmured absently, somewhat taken aback by her words. Then again, perhaps it was that name, those words, that gave me the strength to return my sister's call once I reached the forward batteries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (For those who are curious, the terms "Yankee" and "scalawag" have historical significance. After the American Civil War, southern whites who supported Reconstruction (the period of rebuilding following the War that lasted from 1863 to 1877), were called "scalawags," to differentiate those individuals for the rest of their fellow Southerners, known collectively as "Rebels."  
> "Yankee," is a reference to those who lived in the Union or Northern states, and while it is believed to have originated during the War Between the States, it's first recorded use was by a British General in 1758, in reference to the soldiers under his command at his post in New England. In the context of Tenebrea, Teandra is from Charleston, a town in the southern United States, whereas Jacob is from Baltimore, a city in the north. The rivalry nowadays between Southerners and Northerners tends to be rather jovial, which is what we tried to convey here.  
> What can I say? Southern ladies such as ourselves do at least try to be polite.  
> -Luna ;)


	13. Popping the Heatsink

So, did anyone ever wonder why we're late posting some weeks? Well, of course there's the continual sickness bouncing its way through one house or the other. But the rest of the time? It's because of crap like _this_.

_*Video chat between Garrus Vakarian and Teandra Shepard with their biographers, LunaMax1214 and Mitisvenatrix.*_

_**Misty:**_ Okay, no more stalling. We have to talk about the reach and flexibility conversation now.

 _ **Teandra:**_ Stalling? Why, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about.

 _ **Misty:**_ (glaring) I've had to shut down video chat three times so you guys can relive your big moment of 'relieving stress.' Much as I support the whole 'shirtless Garrus for science' bit, do it again, and I'm recording and making it up from that.

 _ **Garrus**_ _(laughing)_ _ **:**_ Hey, I'll oblige, since it's for science...

 _ **Teandra**_ _(crossing her arms and glaring)_ _ **:**_ I have a sniper rifle, and that gives _me_ the reach in that situation.

 _ **Garrus:**_ Right, well, the whole recording thing? I thought _you_ had a kinky mind, Tandy. What the hell have you been telling this girl? (gestures at Misty, still poised over her keyboard awaiting their story)

 _ **Luna:**_ _Too much_ , to be frank.

 _ **Teandra:**_ Ask me no questions...

 _ **Garrus:**_ (crossing his arms) Tandy, it is just _rude_ to tell all our little secrets that way.

 _ **Teandra:**_ You are _so_ full of _verna,_ Garrus. You already told them _both_ about Armistice Day.

 _ **Garrus:**_ (shuffling guiltily) She (points at Misty) flattered me. Starting saying something about how sexy my voice and how you'd want me to tell anyway and...

 _ **Garrus**_ _(sighing)_ _ **:**_ Okay, fuck it. You win.

 _ **Luna:**_ I'd say EVERYONE won when it came to that story. Husband got a big kick out of it, too.

 _ **Garrus and Teandra:**_ (in unison) WHAT?

 **Luna:** (innocently) You didn't think starships were the only places that were "small," did you?

 _ **Misty:**_ NO ONE has won yet, because I _still_ don't have my damn outline of events. Are you all going to _focus_ or what?

 _ **Garrus, Tandy, and Luna:**_ (in unison, after sharing a glance) Are you saying our focus needs more focus?

 _ **Misty:**_ I fucking hate you all... I really, _really_ do. And movie quotes are MY forte, damn it.

 _ **Luna:**_ (raises hand) Wait, I have a question:How is this in any way _my_ fault?

 _ **Misty:**_ I didn't say it was your fault. I said I was blaming you. And anyway, I refuse to answer that. Yep. Flat out _refuse_.

 _ **Luna:**_ (shrugs)... and I say, "Can't fix what I don't know is broken." You brought it on yourself, then.

 _ **Misty**_ (after sharing a look with Luna): I fucking give up. (turns back to screen) GODDAMN IT! Those two are at it _again_! I _need_ this damn chapter rough draft today! (sighing heavily) Where's the hose?

*REMOTE DISCONNECT*

 _ **Misty:**_ Damnit...

 _**Now** _ _do you all understand why our updates are late sometimes? It's things like this... ;-)_

_BTW, AWESOME new pic from Shalizeh this week. It even has Brandon Keener's blessing on Facebook! Link's on my profile! :D  
_

* * *

_You're too loud, I'm so hyper_

_On paper we're a disaster_

_And I'm driving you crazy_

_It's my little game_

_I push you, and you push back_

_Two opposites so alike that_

_Everyday's a roller coaster_

_And I'm a bump you'll never get over_

Orianthi - "Shut up and Kiss Me"

 

**Chapter 12 - Popping the Heatsink**

I approached the forward batteries with trepidation, my footsteps slowed by the very idea of Sol asking for a private conference, making me wish we were planetside facing down Harbinger again. Weaponless.

But the real world calls sometimes, and I had been neglecting catching up on my familial duties as of late. Might as well man up and see what was going on. I pulled my gloves off as I moved to the console, typing in the password to open the messaging program.

*USER CONNECTED*

(19:15) G: Ok, so what's up, Sol? What's the problem?

(19:16) S: Father's called a clan meeting. Are you coming?

(19:16) G: Wow. No 'hi,' no 'how are you' or anything.

(19:17) S: You didn't exactly give me a traditional salutation, either.

(19:18) G: I'd have even settled for a 'fuck you,' given how my day is going...

(19:19) S: GARRUS. Can you _please_ get serious?

(19:19) G: Fine, FINE. What's the meeting about?

(19:19) S: Simply put? _You_.

(19:21) G: By the spirits, what could I _possibly_ have done now? I haven't even _seen_ him in over two years.

(19:23) S: I'm not sure. But it appears he hasn't actually filed the paperwork concerning your disownment with the Hierarchy yet. Maybe he wants to discuss it with the rest of us before finalizing it.

(19:24) G: I doubt he'd want such a public spectacle, unless there is someone else who's been challenging authority lately, and he needs to set an example…

(19:25) S: Garrus… why do you make things so hard on yourself?

(19:25) G: ME? All I've ever done-

*USER DISCONNECTED*

*USER CONNECTED*

(19:29) S: What was that all about?

(19:30) G: I could swear I helped install those power couplings to PREVENT shit like this.

(19:30) G: Sorry. Power fluctuation.

(19:31) G: ...what was I saying?

(19:31) S: I don't know, but I know what _I_ was going to say: Just TALK TO HIM.

(19:33) G: I tried. That's what got me in this mess to begin with.

(19:35) S: You two are too much alike, you realize that, don't you?

(19:38) G: Yeah, don't remind me. But no, I'm not coming. Much as I'd love to see you, I've got things to take care of here.

(19:39) S: Still 'saving the galaxy,' huh? Well, if you change your mind, meeting is in three galactic standard months. Just wanted to let you know.

(19:40) S: Love you, _pika-pooka._

(19:25) G: Love you too, sis. Miss you. And Mom.

*USER DISCONNECTED*

* * *

#####

* * *

"I don't know how _many_ times I have to repeat that full-contact sports on a space-faring vessel are a mistake." The voice of Chakwas filtered through my consciousness, slowly allowing me to fight the grogginess that could only be associated with pain medicine. "I now feel I know what my mother must have felt like..."

"Aw, C'mon, Doc! It was just a little game of wall-ball!" Navigator Connors' voice came from the bed to my left, closely followed by a grunt of pain. "It's not _my_ fault it went too close to the wall."

"So the wall jumped in your way?" The muffled voice of Engineer Gregson came from the bed on my right , and a slit of my eyes revealed him holding the bridge of his nose, pinching it to staunch the flow of blood coming from it.

"At least _I_ didn't decide to run face-first into the tattooed chick's fist."

"That's not fair. All I did was say, 'Hey, you've got really nice ink.' Next thing I know, I've got a bloody nose."

"This is what happens when you're only move is a backflip. Gotta get better at the verbals, man."

"Hey, you remember that time you wanted to use my console to look at porn somewhere other than the CIC?"

"When?"

" _Ever."_

There was a snort, and another muffled almost-scream of pain as Chakwas hit something sensitive. Connors grunted, replying, "Remember that time you forgot how to take a joke?"

"Man, shut the hell up, Weirdo."

"You can't tell me what to do, Flip. It's not like we're married or something."

"Yeah, well, I'll marry you just so I can divorce you. How's that sound?"

I laughed, groaning as I sat up more fully to the sound of their continued bickering. An image of a tall, skinny blonde man and a shorter, heaftier brunnette guy, along with the term "hetero life-mate," quickly came to mind.

Yep. I _definitely_ watched too many vids, still do to this day, but can you really blame me?

"Flip and, _Weirdo_ , did I hear that right?"

The pair snapped to attention at my voice, as if only just realizing I were there when I spoke. I only knew the two of them in passing, and by word of mouth, since their antics were well known throughout the rest of the crew. There had been more than a few bets placed some days as to how long Gregson would deal with Connors' antics before breaking. I, myself, had a sneaking suspicion that Connors did what he did simply to screw with his partner in crime.

I waved my hand in a stopping motion to put them back at ease, somewhat amused by the sight of Gregson torn between following protocol to pop off a salute or keeping one hand on his still-bleeding nose. Thankfully, common sense overcame training and he kept one hand in place to keep the trickling to a minimum.

"So, did I hear you right? The wall-ball resumed after I left?"

"Yes, ma'am," that was Connors, "the ground team seemed to be having so much fun that after your loss..." He stopped, as if worried I'd be mad, but I motioned for him to continue. "Well, the rest of us figured it was worth a try. It was fun."

"At least, it _was_ fun, until XO Lawson said it was getting too dangerous," Gregson said rather petulantly.

"I _can't_ imagine why she would think that," I said with a snort, glancing pointedly back and forth between the two of them. Doctor Chakwas finished with her examination of Connors, moving over to Gregson as she spoke.

"Well, you gentlemen are set. No permanent damage, but if you need any pain medication later, just let me know. Or, should I be unavailable, you can ask Doctor Solus for help."

"The salarian, Doc?" Flip asked with a look I couldn't read. "I don't think so."

"What's wrong with the Professor?" I asked dangerously, hoping I wasn't going to have to give a lecture on tolerance in the medbay, of all places.

"He stays busier than hell, Ma'am," said Weirdo, "and last time we were in there to see him, he wanted to question me about some scale itch outbreak. Wanted to know if Flip had been up to some kind of bestiality."

Flip, for lack of a better term, flipped out at this. "You're full of shit!"

"Usually, yes. But not today." Weirdo had a shit-eating grin on his face, and this didn't help things. Flip was well on his way to lunging at his blonde counterpart, and though I was stuck in between them (literally), I couldn't stop myself from joining in.

"You know," I interjected, catching on rather quickly in spite of the fading sedative, "Mordin _did_ mention something last time I was in there…"

I fell into full out laughter at the look on Gregson's face, only to marvel at the fact that it didn't hurt to do so.

"Relax, crewman. I'm pulling your leg. But, if you don't want me to keep going, you might want to make a hasty exit. Once I get started, it's really hard for me to stop."

Connors' face lit up at this statement. "Hey, _I'm_ completely okay with this plan..."

I was not suprised in the slightest when Connors was the one to make the hasty exit, with Gregson right on his heels, threatening to disable the other man's Fornax account entirely for "being such an asshole."

As the pair left, I turned to Chakwas. "So what's the verdict?"

"You should be good as new, Commander. Your injuries were minor, in spite of the insanity of your actions, and Cerberus gave you advanced healing along with everything else. I must give you a clean bill of health, I'm afraid."

"Don't sound so disappointed, Doc. Today, that's a good thing."

"Why is that, Commander?"

"Hold on a second." I held up a finger to forestall any further comment, then called out to the AI, "EDI, patch me through to Gardner please."

"Waddya want, Commander?" The gruff voice of the chef came over my comm.

"Remember that little item I had you stash for me?"

"Which one? You asked me to stash a lot of things. Your pudding cups, that namby-pamby box of chocolates, the mint vanilla ice cream I ended up using in that cake last week..."

"Which no one ate because you admitted you forgot to wash your hands."

"Yes, they did! Gregson eventually dared Connors, who hasn't gotten sick yet, I'll have you know. Speaking of provisions, where are my A-Rats?"

"On the Citadel, where they'll stay unless you bring me that _very_ special item I had you set aside for Doctor Chakwas."

"Well why didn't you say so? I'd wouldn'a given ya so much shit over it if I'da known it was for a woman of her class."

This brought a look of surprise to the older woman's face, and a smile to mine, as I said, "Gardner? You know you're on speaker, right?"

There was a short pause before, "Aw, shit." _Apparently not._

The container was soon passed into the room by a hand that was probably attached to a body somewhere, but our cook was too embarrassed to look Chakwas in the face. By that time, the good doctor looked more amused than anything else, but of course, Gardner didn't know that.

"I have a present for you, Doc." I held out the ornate bottle, one that I'd almost forgotten I'd picked up my first time on Omega. Things had been so busy, I just hadn't had time to bring it. Today was as good a day as any, as far as I was concerned.

"Serrice Ice Brandy? You didn't..." She took the bottle with an air of disbelief, which quickly turned into delight, and it brought me no small measure of pride to see how happy it made her. I shrugged slightly, but it just felt wonderful to be able to do something for one of the old crew that meant so much to me.

"Thank you. I always regretted not opening that original bottle-when I still could. I won't make the same mistake again. Why don't we open this bottle right here, right now, you and me?"

I hesitated for a minute, but even my own sensitivity to alcohol and the possible consequences of such wasn't enough to overpower the obvious loneliness Chakwas was portraying. 'Never drink alone,' was something of an unofficial entry in my own personal book of rules. I couldn't say no, and I'd be fine as long as I only took one drink. My willpower was just fine in that arena.

Besides, it wasn't as if I couldn't make it look like I was drinking much more than I actually was. I had plenty of practice with that.

"You crack open the bottle. I'll get the glasses."

An hour or so later found me still nursing my first glass, but enjoying the company immensely as Karin and I recalled many a misadventure from the crew of the SR1. Half the bottle was gone, and my comrade was well on her way to a blissfully drunken stupor as she poured herself another glass of brandy.

"Alright, so I have a question."

She took another sip, waving her hand to tell me to ask away.

"With your service record, you could have gotten a tour of duty on any Alliance ship. Why'd you really leave?"

She seemed to consider this for a moment, staring thoughtfully off into space before finally beginning to answer. "Maybe it's less about leaving, and more about _staying_. As a military doctor I mostly treat people who are in bad shape. Often, they die. And if I can help them, they move on. Either way, they leave."

"I know the feeling, Karin. But… don't you have any friends or family?"

"No, not lacking friendship. Just stability. Jeff..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, and her face held a look of quiet affection as she spoke of our often infuriating but still somehow loveable pilot. "Joker will always have Vrolik's Syndrome. He would never admit it, but he needs my help. And he always will. I wish it weren't, but sadly, it's true."

Consistency… what a foreign concept. I don't think anything about my life had been consistent for quite some time, if ever. Military life changed too much to make that practical, even discounting the insanity of the events of my life. Thing is, it used to bother me, but I didn't think I'd ever really felt that way since being promoted to Commander of the SR1. Apparently, Karin felt similarly and the explanation, once I thought about it, was glaringly obvious.

"Treating Joker gives you a kind of stability, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "So does this ship, even if it's a copy. Or, hell, maybe it's you." She raised her voice, taking on a speech-like tone as she went on, "Shepard, our immovable center. A place for a person to stop and catch her breath. Or maybe I'm just happily drunk. Would it hurt if it were simple like that for once?"

I smiled. "Not at all, Doc. Not at all. To being happily drunk, and to the ornery bastard who flies this ship!"

"The best fighter jockey to ever take to the skies."

With that last drink, she stood up, only to stagger slightly as she did so. I rushed to help her. "Whoa, there. Let's get you laying down somewhere."

That somewhere, as it turns out, was one of the beds in the medbay, since she wasn't in any condition to walk back to the sleeper pods on her own.

As I lay her down, covering her with one of the blankets in much the same way she usually did with her patients, I allowed myself to consider that last toast a little more fully, and the conversation that had brought it on.

 _Shepard: Our immovable center_. I doubted I could ever consider myself _that_ for anyone, but more than one person had made simliar statements. In spite of that, I had never felt that way about anyone or anything except the Irregulars. At least, not until recently, and that brought me back to the one thing that I could probably call stable since Finch had entered my life.

Garrus had been there for me through thick and thin. Given me support, made sure I knew he was here for the long haul no matter what. Even if it was only as my friend. I think it was that, more than anything else, that endeared him to me so unabashedly.

He loved me; and yes, I was strong enough to admit to myself that the emotion he felt and had described was nothing less than that. He loved me not because I'd put on a front for him for a mission, or because he saw me as some grand hero without flaws. He didn't see me as some vulnerable girl who he could save, or some hardass he could crack.

He saw me, under all the lies and the facades and all the masks, as Teandra. Nothing more, nothing less. And _that_ was something no one had ever done.

How could I have been so blind, all this time?

I still thought he deserved better than anything I could give him, but that stubborn ass didn't appear to want better. For whatever reason, he wanted _me_ , and I was so tired of fighting against what the two of us wanted so badly in the first damn place.

I wasn't sure I was ready to commit everything. Even admitting that I was _allowed_ to feel something at all was filling me with terror as I fought against memories of Finch's lessons on personal attachments. The very first one came when I was ten, not long after he'd taken me.

" _Lesson number one, my special girl, will always be this: You let people close to you, then it takes almost no effort for them to plunge a knife into your heart." He lightly presses the blade in his hand into the thin leather of the scant top, the material not nearly enough to keep me from feeling the sharp metal penetrate just enough to start a trickle of red flowing down my chest._

" _You keep everyone at arms length," he pushes me away, moving my arms into a maneuver that would counter his knife thrust, "and you can see what is coming and react, or even preempt it."_

_True to his hint, he thrusts the blade at me, though much slower than I know he is capable of, and I manage to deflect it from its intended target, garnering a slice on my arm as a result._

" _That is the other point, my dear. Even letting them into arms length will gain you scars. Better to keep them farther, by whatever means necessary."_

I shook myself violently, the vision of my _afeni's_ face chasing the memory out before it could take hold.

Even after our very first heart-to-heart conversation in the cargo bay, I could distinctly remember waking up screaming from a nightmare of the night my parents died. It had gripped me incessantly, keeping me from sleep until I started thinking about my sniper competition with our newest turian addition the day before. It seemed such a sentimental thing, but I felt an instant kindred with him that I don't think I'd ever bothered to try and question. The very idea of it had given me my first peaceful night in months, the thought of someone having my back, and I'd always held an almost instinctual trust for Garrus.

Something that had only been proven the day he'd invaded my quarters, only to end up with me sobbing in his arms.

I had _never_ done that before in my life, and had been ashamed beyond all reason the next day. But he'd treated our next few missions as business as usual, showing _no_ judgement whatsoever. It had taken me a long time to realize that me crying had been a result of one emotion, one little word.

Trust.

I had trusted him with my life, with my reputation, and my sanity. In the end, with everything else, would it really be such a bad thing to trust him with my body? I didn't think so.

And my heart? What of that? Well, _that_ was one question I couldn't answer until all my skeletons had been laid bare.

But, one step at a time. With my thoughts on the idea of consistency, and the way I felt about my turian, I came to one conclusion that I was starting to believe I should have come to a long time ago, probably about the time I had begun half-heartedly looking up information about turian-human relationships: It was time to stop feeling sorry for wanting something so simple, and to show Garrus exactly how much he meant to me.

I made my way towards the batteries, determined to bring my new attitude on the matter to his attention as soon as possible. All I needed was an opportunity to make my newfound revelations known.

Just one _little_ opening.

* * *

#####

* * *

"I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess."

Her laughter echoed through the confines of the room as she shook her head, relieving any fears I had that telling her the story would strain our friendship.

Why _had_ I told her, anyway? Was I _finally_ getting beyond the image of her I had created on Omega? Finally seeing her as a fellow soldier again instead of as the perfect picture that had invaded my dreams while on that spirits-forsaken rock? _Finally_ returning to the portrait of her as the comrade in arms she had always been instead of the potential mate she'd probably never be?

By the damn Spirits, I hoped so, because it was about time I came to my senses again.

She was looking at me, and I could see her gauging my expression as she said, "You sly dog. That poor girl never stood a chance…" She looked up at me, unblinking, as she went on, "You know, it sounds like your carrying some tension now, actually. Maybe I could help you get rid of it."

I snorted. "Didn't know you felt like sparring, Commander, especially after our last bout."

We'd finally made it back onto the mat for a match or two, but in spite of our instinctive knowledge of each other's skill set, our near two week hiatus had granted a fresh feel to the competition. Strategies had to be reworked, and I'd always been better at adapting mine, which gave me a slight advantage. She was quickly catching back up, however, which gave our matches their competitive edge all over again; something both of us were thoroughly enjoying. Rediscovering one another's tactics was almost like testing each other for the first time. It helped ground our friendship in reality once more, something we sorely needed after the emotional roller-coaster of the last few weeks.

Then she stood, giving me a heated look I'd only ever seen when we _were_ sparring, and said,"What if we skipped right to the tie-breaker?"

One word was all my brain could produce as I realized what she was saying: _Verna_.

Was I hearing her right? True, we'd been even more aggressive in our flirtations since our reunion, had danced and hedged around the concept of pursuing this relationship, but I'd grown used to the idea that the physical attraction we shared was something that was just _not_ something either of us was ever going to act upon. The suddenness of her blatant invitation threw me completely off balance, and all I could manage to say was, "Oh! I didn't… Huh. Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars."

_Real smooth, Vakarian. Why don't you try a little harder to screw this up? I don't think she's ready to run away screaming yet._

At my obvious nervousness, she lost a little of her bravado, stumbling over her words as she said, "You know, Garrus, if you're not comfortable with this, it's okay. I... I'm not trying to pressure you, or anything."

I started to move towards her, to let her know she could _never_ make me uncomfortable. I had always said I didn't have a thing for humans, but Teandra was like a turian in the wrong body. I'd never met _anyone_ who had affected me quite as strongly as the small woman in front of me had, both emotionally and morally. She had changed my life, had _saved_ my life, and it truly belonged to her now.

All these things fought for control of my mouth as I took a step towards her, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, only to stop dead in my tracks when the strange scent she'd carried since coming in the room hit my nostrils full force: Alcohol.

She'd been drinking.

That _fucking_ explained it.

Bitterness swept over me as the turn of events overcame my silence. "Shepard, you have no idea how appealing that offer is, but… I won't do it. Not like this." I wasn't angry at her; I was angry with myself for getting my hopes up in the first damn place.

The look she gave me was quizzical. "Like what?"

"With you anything less than in total control of yourself again. With you drunk." Curse the Spirits for putting me in this situation twice in one lifetime.

The memory of that party after the Battle of the Citadel had remained all too fresh over the two years we'd spent apart. 'Fucking or fighting,' was the term she had used, though her actions towards me had been closer to all-out molestation. At the time, we had both still been very adamant about the importance of our friendship over physical perks; yet her drunken assault had tested boundaries that were firmly in place for both of us, and it was those very boundaries that had given me leverage in spite of my own _very_ tipsy state. I had been able to withstand her so called advances with her honor (and our friendship) intact.

I had been an honest man.

One I wasn't anymore, and I _knew_ it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Two years of longing and sexual fantasies made her games much more appealing now than they ever could have been then, and all I could hope was that she didn't throw herself at me quite as savagely as she had the last time. If she did, I wasn't sure what the outcome might be.

All chance of that, which I'd known was only slim to begin with, disappeared as she narrowed her eyes. She glared at me in an almost predatory manner, moving forward quite gracefully in spite of the alcohol. She wasn't a woman who dealt well with rejection (something I had subsequently forgotten about in the ten seconds it had taken to respond to her come-on) and I began to really worry about what she had in store for me.

"I've been doing a _little_ research, Garrus. Would you like to know what about?" Her words fully understandable, in spite of the fact that the amount of alcohol in her system must have been massive for her to be acting this way. "Turian erogenous zones."

 _By the damn Spirits, what is she playing at?_ I'd be lying if I didn't admit that a small part of me was already beginning to dredge up images of her as she'd been in my fantasies: _She lay in front of me, naked and bound, with pale skin gleaming against her dark bindings. Her voice is like the sweetest music, calling my name as she writhes underneath me..._

I shook the image away just in time to see her in front of me, and I was desperately fighting two sides of myself as the scent of her sweat and ylang-ylang overpowered the smell of the brandy. It brought to mind many days and nights spent in each other's company; it whispered of movies and chess games, of sparring matches and jokes, of friendship and battle.

Of the night she'd slept beside me, nearly naked and cuffed to my bed.

Something that, at the time, had been done out of necessity; I had worried for her safety if left to wander the halls in her drunken state. In the interim, however, it had been more than enough fuel to keep my dreams going down that path in the time we'd spent apart.

So much so that, even though I was actively fighting against it, it had me wondering where I had stashed that _very_ set of handcuffs.

That part of me that she admired so much fought to push her away, to be that honorable man once again, but... the other, much darker part of me was ready to force her onto my cot and give her _exactly_ what she was asking for; what we both had been craving so desperately. I was fully aware it would destroy us, though, a thought that helped to lock away the Archangel's desires. I remained in control of the situation.

 _Right_ until she touched me.

Her small hand moved towards my cheek plate, the first contact sending a jolt of warmth through me I was wholly unprepared for. Desires, long checked, came to the surface unbidden, drawn by that single finger lain upon my cheek.

"Let's see if I remember this correctly," she said almost coquettishly, the corner of her mouth quirking upward as she did so. "Oh, yes. _This_ should set you off quite nicely…" Her hand reached up to firmly scratch along the lower left edge of my carapace. I shuddered as a small wave of pleasure rolled through me, her watchful eyes reading my reaction with great scrutiny. Internally cursing, I balled my talons into fists, refusing to give her anything more.

She wasn't fooled.

"Hmmm… okay. Looks like I'll have to try a little harder." Her fingers slid down my front, seemingly searching for a new place to play. "You've got all the good ones covered by that damn suit." Her hands lingered suggestively over my armored waist, but I somehow managed to keep that response hidden completely.

"But I'm _creative._ I'll figure something out." Her eyes glinted as she looked me up and down possessively, eliciting another shudder from me as her face portrayed every action her devious little mind was conjuring up at that moment. There was nothing innocent about that gaze, and I felt my resolve slip another notch. _Why not? Why not give her what she's practically begging for?_

I might be a sorry excuse for a man, but I wouldn't do that to her. She'd kill herself (and possibly me) for it in the morning. I _had_ to hold out, for both our sakes.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm myself; a mistake with her so close. She smelled like she did on the mat, like danger and adrenaline. _Damn._ She might be cursing it, but I was _blessing_ that armor at the moment, since it was keeping her from realizing _just_ how far under my plating she was getting. How many reactions she was drawing from me, of the variety I usually prided myself on keeping under wraps.

"How about…" her voice dropped to a husky whisper as she brought herself closer, "here?" She brought her unarmored body against mine as she reached up to trace her nails from the base of my neck to the sensitive area underneath my fringe, lingering momentarily before moving back downwards lightly.

I intook my breath sharply, every nerve focused on that single point of contact. The height difference that had forced her to mold against me was also forcing her to look up at me submissively, only adding to the reaction I was having. And while I couldn't feel her through the suit, her face expressed contentment at our close proximity. Lust, need, desire, and something else I couldn't even _begin_ to identify were shining in her eyes. If I were truthful, I wasn't sure what was hers and what was a reflection of my own features.

"Shepard… Teandra… please…" _Stop._ I couldn't make myself say the word. In defiance of my thoughts, I reached up and stroked along the side of her neck with the back of a single talon, watching her pulse quicken as I did so. She could be mine, right here, right now…

_Silken bindings… reveling in the softness… her moaning with abandon…_

Shaking my head silently, I thought, _"You're better than this..."_ Somehow, I still managed to refuse the bidding of my inner monster.

She narrowed her eyes at me again, though not as severely as before, then quirked an eyebrow as she shared a new thought.

"Alright then, Garrus. You force me to take more drastic measures." She brought her other hand up to meet the first, using the leverage to bring her face within inches of my own. The motion was familiar from hundreds of the movies we'd shared with each other, and from the one night we'd come so close to screwing things up the first time. I knew I finally had her beaten.

"Turians don't kiss, Teandra. We've talked about this befo-" Wherever I was taking that thought was interrupted by a warm, wet tongue being applied to first one mandible, then the other. My knees started to give out of their own accord, a groan escaping me that sounded lewd even to my own ears. She _had_ been doing her research, and where the hell she'd come by the information was beyond me. _I_ didn't even know her action would cause such a strong reaction, the sensation nearly causing me to finish right there. Besides the physical, there was an almost overwhelming intimacy contained within the motion, due to the closeness and the pure _want_ her heavy breathing conveyed.

Instinctively, my hands wrapped themselves around her waist, which is when I remembered she wasn't in uniform. She was still in her workout clothes, and since she'd gone up on her toes in order to reach my face, her top had ridden up to expose more than a little of her midriff. Of course, I hadn't known that until my bare hands were in contact with her bared waist.

That sent my mind flashing back to the battle in the cargo bay several hours prior, and how well, despite the disadvantages, Teandra had evaded Jack; even if she'd eventually "lost," she'd still been formidable, and dangerous women had always been my biggest weakness.

Time stopped as she continued to torture me, my body frozen as she continued sucking lightly before moving her tongue delicately between teeth that should have terrified her. Her soft tongue found my own rougher one, and the new sensation was even stranger than the last one. And very, very different. It wasn't the bawdy experience she'd given me with the teasing. It was more of a sensual, trusting gesture, the kind that invited you to mold yourself to the person, to _taste_ them, to feed off of their desires.

She tasted sweet; ironically enough almost like _kilaka_ fruit. It reminded me of Palaven, of the only real home I'd ever known. It was an intimacy that indicated an immense measure of acceptance, of surrender. Of trust.

 _So this explains the human fascination with this,_ was my fleeting thought as I finally lost myself with the moment. Wrapping both arms around her, I brought her closer forcefully, and heard a small, satisfied sigh escape her at the reaction she had finally managed to draw out of me.

My knees finally _did_ buckle, which sent both of us collapsing onto the crate she'd been sitting upon what felt like hours beforehand. Thankfully, we were closer to that than my cot, or things could have _really_ gotten out of hand.

I'm not sure how long we spent in that position, completely lost in each other in a way that didn't seem possible. We adjusted to our new positions almost instinctively, as if we'd both been preparing for the moment for a long time. She straddled my lap with a knee on either side of my thighs to keep her balance, and I pulled her as close to me as I could, given that I was still armored up. She continued to rake her nails underneath my fringe, reading every movement of my body and responding to it as if she could read my thoughts. In turn, I allowed myself to fully enjoy the pleasure of stroking the soft skin of her back, working my palms under her shirt and moving them up and down idly. She seemed to enjoy that as much as I did, small bumps appearing all over her arms and her pulse jumping out at me from her throat once again.

If she could disarm me this much by just kissing, what in the hell would happen if we were to move forward? To continue into more intimate settings?

_Oh, to hell with it. Why don't we find out?_

The urge to finally taste her was simply too much. I dipped my head beneath the edge of her hair and licked along her neck from the base of her throat to her earlobe. Then, I stopped, waiting for her reaction.

I didn't have to wait long.

She gasped in my ear, and I'm not sorry to say that the sound gave me more than a small boost to my ego. She pressed herself even closer to me, if that were possible, and used my own 'move' against me. As her tongue moved along the vulnerable space between my collar and my chin, my hands slid none too gently down her back to begin toying with the waistband of her leggings. I hadn't meant to scrape her with my talons, but I did. She arched into me and moaned, which said she was more than okay with what I'd done.

So, I did it again.

She moaned again, and as her hands moved for the clasps on my armor, I almost succumbed. Seriously considered allowing her to have her way. But the darkness of the man I had become in her absence, the entity so focused on bloodshed and obsession, was still too clear for me to entertain the idea losing her over an evening of passion.

_What if it took her from you forever, more decisively than her death did?_

That thought sufficiently terrified me to the point of breaking my trance. Reluctantly, I pulled away, my voice husky as I said one, single word: "No."

Overwhelming shock, then hurt, registered on her face. It pained me in a way much more visceral than my own current physical discomfort. That one look almost broke me more effectively than all her seduction and charms, so great was my aversion to causing her pain.

On this, however, I could not allow for negotiation.

"But…" she said, the question unfinished as she looked at me for an explanation.

"No, little Spectre. I can't." I inhaled, then exhaled slowly and continued. "Just because I _want_ you so badly, and make _no_ mistake the desire is there," I reassured her, not wanting her to think she was in any way repulsive to me, "it doesn't mean I'll sacrifice what few morals I have left." I reached up to lightly touch her hair, burying the darkness once again under the principals I had built my life upon. Under the friendship that was worth more than a thousand one-night stands.

Then I disengaged myself from her grasp, making sure she had her feet under her before she slid from my lap, and said, "Go sleep it off, Teandra, and if you're still interested," _Which is highly unlikely_ , I thought dejectedly, "we'll talk. Now, get out of here." I gently pushed her towards the door as I opened it, her face a study in frustration and longing. "I have some calibrations to run." _Since I'm in a_ great _place to optimize firing algorithms right about now._

"Calibrations… uh, huh. Fine, Vakarian." She looked back with a wicked grin, raising an eyebrow as she said, "I guess I could always go have a talk with Taylor." I growled softly before I realized it, and she winked at me in retaliation. _Little vixen. You just wait. One of these days..._

"Well, off to bed with me, then," she sighed contentedly, "I'll be sure to think of you while I…"

" _Goodnight, Teandra_." I commanded the door to close as I spoke, cutting off what she was saying mid-sentence, not even allowing myself the chance to fully process what she was trying to implant in my head.

I turned back to the console, gripping the edges and letting out a slow, long breath to try to calm the hormones in my system. As I stood there, proud of myself for my willpower and my ability to withstand her once again, my brain decided to throw one more perception-shattering blow in my direction.

 _If the alcohol was the only reason for that little display,_ it pointed out with sadistic glee, _at what point, exactly, had she been_ _ **doing**_ _all that research?_

I stared at the door, eyes wide, wondering if it were too late to follow her.


	14. Like Attracts Like

_Sorry girl but you missed out_

_Well tough luck that boy's mine now_

_We are more than just good friends_

_This is how the story ends_

_Too bad that you couldn't see,_

_See the man that boy could be_

_There is more that meets the eye_

_I see the soul that is inside_

Avril Lavigne - "Sk8er Boi"

 

**Chapter 13- Like Attracts Like**

The blinking of my omni-tool at 0430 brought me back to the land of the living, and I stared over at the fish tank petulantly as I tried to work up the energy to get out of bed. Eyes shutting once again, I sent a hand over to bang the top of the tool, shutting off the alarm for a sparring match I had _no_ intention of going to today. Or possibly ever again, if my current mood were any indication.

"Well, that settles that little quandary, doesn't it, Teandra?"

Yes, I was talking to myself; who the hell else was I going to talk to, now that I'd screwed up so badly at the one relationship of any kind I'd ever managed to maintain?

Pulling the covers back over my head, I cringed at the memory of my actions the night before. "There you go, thinking you know it all, thinking you can decipher _everyone_ and _everything_ , and what happens? You make an idiot out of yourself." I sighed heavily, though it was probably closer to a groan. "Guess we know the truth now, don't we? He's _just_ not that into you."

Which made my advances even more embarrassing. And his rejection all the more vexing.

I can't say I had _ever_ had someone say no before. Not once. Even Alenko, honorable ass that he could be, had been easy to manipulate in that regard. He always thought he was being slick, trying to get me drunk the night before Ilos, but I knew what the hell was going on. It was like a pattern for me: Just enough alcohol to keep Red in check so I could have my fun.

One glass had been enough last night, anyway. I'd _thought_ he was enjoying himself.

Then, _BAM_. He stops me. No amount of personal honor had ever stopped _any_ man that close to getting laid, dammit. Not in _my_ history, anyway, personal or otherwise. And I'll be damned if he hadn't seemed to mind at first, right?

Then again, so what if Garrus had given in for a minute? _Any_ guy would when faced with a girl throwing herself at him so thoroughly, and I sure as hell hadn't been holding back a fucking iota…

I studied the thread designs on the bottom of the silk-lined blanket, one of the luxuries that had been included in Cerberus' many bribes, and the silvery-grey of its coloring. Which inevitably led me back to the look and feel of Garrus' skin the night before, and the sounds of his harsh breathing as I'd attempted to seduce him.

_Dammit… it doesn't matter, does it? None of it fucking matters._

Because kind words or not, it was clear he had no desire to sleep with me, no matter what I had believed all along. I had been _wrong,_ and now I was paying the price for my arrogance. We really weren't more than the friends and companions we'd always been.

Shouldn't have been surprised. Life liked to screw me over at every turn anyway, so why not here? And come to think of it, I guess he really _wasn't_ kidding about the whole 'not into humans' bit, either.

Goddess, how could I have been so _stupid_?

Things were going to be... awkward. No, 'awkward' was not strong enough a word for what I was thinking. My mind was spinning off into a million different scenarios, but every one of them ended the same way.

They all ended with me winding up alone. And if I didn't want that to happen, I had to at least try to salvage this situation.

"I'm going to have to go talk to him, aren't I?" I asked the blanket once again, not expecting an answer. But this time, I did get one.

"Commander Shepard?"

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I smacked my head against the headboard, I was so startled when she called for me. " _What_ do you want, EDI?"

"With whom did you wish to speak? Is it Officer Vakarian? I can get him on the speaker for you."

I'm sure she meant well, but I wasn't in the mood to give an AI lessons in organic sensitivity. "EDI, _go_ away, please. That whole 'personal privacy' thing extends to my quarters, no matter what Joker keeps telling you."

"Yes, Shepard. Logging you out." For a split second, I could swear she sounded hurt by my rebuff, and I felt bad. Right up until I reminded myself that AI don't technically have feelings. And that she wasn't actually a 'she'.

Even right after thinking it, I knew I didn't actually believe that, but it managed to assuage my guilt somewhat in that regard, at least.

I rolled over, growling as I buried my face in my pillow. It was really way too early in the morning to have all this shit to think about.

I was going to have to face him. Eventually. And sooner was better than later. Better to go and figure out how badly I'd screwed our friendship up with my impatience and know-it-all attitude, so we could overcome this hurdle. There was still a mission to accomplish, after all.

But first, in spite of my determination to get it over with, I needed a shower, a _really_ cold shower, before I even _thought_ about entering those forward batteries ever again. Or sitting on that spirits' blasted crate.

* * *

#####

* * *

"So, Garrus, when were you going to tell me 'calibrations' was turian for 'masturbation?'" The voice of the pilot came over the loudspeaker, interrupting the flow of code I was focusing on. Without even looking up, I groaned, firing off a retort.

"Joker, what have I told you about spying on the batteries?" I followed the sequence to its end, trying hard not to be baited by his idiocy as I did so. "Keep screwing with me and that stick you keep saying is up my ass will be used to beat _you_ to death."

"You're going to beat me to death with your stick? I'll pass." His laughter pervaded the room. "After that little display last night, I think I'll just borrow Shepard for the day, thanks."

I slammed the button to close the program, turning towards the door. Jokes or no jokes, it was time to lay the law down about that little hobby of his. If I couldn't keep him from spying on the crew at large, I was damn sure going to keep him out of my personal space, at least.

"You have thirty seconds to hide before your ass is mine, Joker. I suggest you hobble _quickly._ "

I was already halfway past the sleeper pods when he responded, rather panicked, "EDI, shut down the elevator! Now!"

"Already done, Officer Moreau," came the AI's response through my earpiece, and I'll be damned if she didn't actually sound smug this time. Well, two could play at that game.

"Hey, NnB, I have a new virus I can try on you if you wanna play, too. Not to mention your hardware is down _here._ I don't need an elevator to get to that, just twenty minutes to reroute power to the door."

"Officer Moreau, I suggest you enact some better firewalls in my software soon. Officer Vakarian has already hacked our systems several times."

The pilot seemed to think about this, but I wasn't listening, already having turned back to go to my console. I had better hacking programs on that thing than my omni-tool, and it shouldn't take me more than a minute to crack EDI's half-assed safety override on the thrice blasted metal contraption.

"Fine, then I'm calling in my marker, Vakarian. You still owe me for when we were trapped at the Citadel."

I considered that for a minute, opening the program just in time to see the elevator had already been hacked from the Commander's level.

 _Riza…_ That was all the warning I got before the door opened behind me.

"Actually, you and I still have to discuss that, Jeff Moreau. Later, when I can be properly mad about it. But for now? Butt out. Vakarian and I need to chat."

"Yes, mother. Don't do anything I wouldn't do... I guess it's a good thing the forward batteries are soundproof, huh?"

"OUT, Joker," she said again, this time with much more menace. "Go watch some more of that gay-midget-donkey-porn you like so much."

"I think the phrase is 'gay-volus-elcor-porn' nowadays, Commander. Get with the times." The laughter that accompanied that statement abruptly stopped as Teandra glared at the camera. "Um, okay. Going away now."

She waited a minute before shifting that glare from the camera to me, crossing her arms self-consciously as she did so.

 _What could be going through her head,_ I wondered, thinking of my own jumbled thoughts since the night prior. It was reasonable to assume that she was mad at me for being late for our sparring match, but I was in workout clothes already, so that was easily rectified. I'd just wanted to take a few minutes to zone out before putting myself in her proximity again.

The memories of the night before were still _just_ as arousing after the fact as they had been during our little... meeting, and I had no doubt that the woman in front of me would never even _consider_ continuing what we had been doing now that the alcohol was gone. Sparring with her at all, ever again, was probably an exercise in self-flagellation just to think about. But I was determined that when she reneged on her offer of a tie-breaker, I _wouldn't_ let it ruin us, or make things awkward.

We would make it through this little slip-up. I'd make sure of that.

Looking at her, though, I noticed she _wasn't_ in her sparring outfit, though she was in civvies. So that explanation for her current mood didn't make sense.

As the silence stretched, she continued to just watch me, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to fidget like a ten year old caught with his first sex vid. Her face, the one I knew almost as well as my own, was completely blank as she looked on, and I schooled my gaze to match hers, watching for _some_ sort of reaction.

I wasn't even sure what to say. ' _I'm sorry, I screwed up by giving in,'_ tended to devolve into _, 'Are you_ sure _we can't still consider this? I found my handcuffs...'_

Yep, talking would be a _bad_ idea. Definitely.

Finally, she sighed, plopping down onto that box that I would never be able to look at in the same way again. "I'm sorry, Garrus. I owe you an apology."

I started, doing a double take on her posture and her face. She was blushing furiously, but didn't seem angry with me at all. Only herself. That was the _complete_ opposite of how this had played out last time, and as such, I took a minute to reconsider my words before speaking.

"For what?" I finally settled on something non-committal, moving over to the cot and sitting myself, giving her some distance. That seemed to help, since she buried her head in her hands for a moment as she tried to collect her thoughts.

That's when it hit me that the emotion she was radiating was _shame._

_No way. No way does she think I'm upset about last night. Right?_

That seemed to be exactly what she had been thinking, something that became apparent as she started speaking. "I was... out of line last night. Not as out of line as you seem to think I was, but still... you said 'no' and I pushed, anyway. I'm sorry about that, about being so _stupid_ … I screwed _everything_ up, and I just should have known better than to do something like that..."

"Teandra..."

"I mean, I get that you don't like humans, but we'd been getting so much closer and you'd been giving off signals that you were okay with it..."

" _Teandra..."_

"Goddess, I feel like such an _ass,_ Garrus, you have no idea. I'm just so damn sorry, but I did warn you. I _warned_ you I was going to screw this all up..."

" _ **Teandra."**_

This finally seemed to break through her nervous ramblings, something that while completely strange, was also something I was seeing her doing more and more as the emotional aspect of _whatever_ this was progressed. As always, it was almost too cute to comment on. She finally looked up from her hands, staring over to where I was sitting, shaking my head as a few chuckles managed to escape me in spite of my determination not to make her embarrassment worse.

"You _do_ realize that the _only_ reason I said 'no' was the fact that you'd been drinking, right?"

Her eyes widened, her face turning red all over again as she asked quietly, "Say that again?"

Not trusting myself to open my mouth, slowly, I nodded, trying and barely succeeding at not laughing at her flustered expression. At the small movement of my head, she let out a startled chuckle, throwing her head back for a minute and taking a deep breath before she finally looked back.

"Garrus... I had only had one drink last night. Not _nearly_ enough to do anything but lower my inhibitions; and make me smell like a distillery, come to think of it. Chakwas was lonely, and I couldn't say no, but... this wasn't like _Lapsus_."

Now it was _my_ turn to be embarrassed. "I... sorta figured that out. But not until _after_ I'd sent you away."

"You could have come upstairs. You'd probably have gotten a show if it was anytime directly thereafter, but I wouldn't have kicked _you_ out, believe me." In spite of her quickly recovering mirth, there was a small hint of the feelings I'd seen there the night before. That lust and admiration that had damn near broken me. If I'd had any doubts about whether or not she were telling the truth, that glimpse dispelled them.

"Well, on some level, I'm sorry I didn't, but I barely had the willpower to withstand you the first time, and we were different back then. If I'd been wrong, and you pulled the same stunt again... I couldn't have walked away a third time, let's just say that. Not in the convenient privacy of your quarters." And I'll be damned if I wasn't getting flashes of repeating our fun right there on her leather couch, even as we sat there in the forward batteries discussing how to fix the _last_ screw up.

When it came to this girl, I was in _so_ much fucking trouble.

"I really _am_ sorry about all that. I hate to think how I left you last night. I mean, what did you do after I left, anyway?"

Her voice sounded strained, and while I wasn't looking directly at her, I could hear her shift from where she was sitting across from me as she worked to change the subject. "You mean other than kick myself for not realizing what was going on?"

"Officer Vakarian, your console will go into 'powersave' mode shortly, as it has been idle for approximately 15 minutes. Would you like me to bookmark the pages you currently have displayed?"

That AI was picking up _all_ of Joker's bad habits. I was about to tell that damnable program to go bother someone else when I remembered _exactly_ what pages she was talking about.

If Teandra found out, she'd _never_ let me hear the end of it. Or worse, she'd just never speak to me again.

"Uh, no, EDI, that won't be necessary." I cursed inwardly at how my voice sounded, and glanced at my companion to see if she had noticed my change in demeanor.

And that was a mistake. "Seriously, though, what were you..." Something in my face caused a grin to spread across hers, and for a moment, things were just as they'd always been. But for once, it didn't make me more comfortable.

"What's the matter, Garrus? Something on that console that'll tarnish your badass reputation?"

 _Oh, you have_ no _idea..._

Before I could say anything, she was off like a shot, and standing in front of said console, thumbing her way through the tabs on the interface.

_Riza._

I got my feet under me and in four quick strides I was behind her, reaching around her back to try and shut off the screen before she saw something that would get us both in trouble. She batted my hands away, seemingly determined to find out what I was hiding.

"Oh, come _on,_ Garrus! It can't be that bad. What, were you playing _Galaxy of Fantasy_ , or somethi-hey!" My hands had finally found their way around her wrists and yanked them back away from the terminal. Hopefully, she hadn't...

"...oh."

Of _course_ she'd found it. Murphy, you bastard.

I'd never been behind her when she'd started blushing before, so it was rather intriguing to see the back of her neck tinge pink as she cleared her throat and said, "...well, that's not what I expected."

My hands went slack as I tried to figure out what to do next, and she took the opening to remove her arm from my grasp and push a button on the virtual interface. Thank the Spirits I'd disabled the external speakers, or I would have torn a hole in the floor, dropped through it, and pulled the metal plating back over my head.

I felt her stiffen in front of me, and I bit back a groan. What I _hadn't_ done was remove the subtitles, which meant that while no one else who might be spying on us could tell what was going on, Teandra certainly could.

I swear, it would have been much less mortifying if she'd found porn on my console. But no, she just _had_ to find the tab that...

"Garrus... what prompted this?"

I decided that I could feign ignorance, given that her head was technically blocking my view. "You'll have to be more specific, Shepard. I can't see a thing from back here."

"You're a horrible liar." She twisted in my arms so that she was facing me. "Why don't you tell me what it is, exactly, that I'm really looking at, here?"

I sighed. There was no way to avoid this conversation. Even if part of me cheered at the idea, the rest of me wanted to make a joke and pretend she'd never found those files. "They're... testimonials."

"Testimonials?" Her gaze was intense, equal parts curious and apprehensive, emotions that were practically identical to what I was feeling at that exact moment. It was too much, and if I was going to actually tell her what I'd been doing, I couldn't keep looking at her. I squeezed my eyes shut, and took a deep breath before I answered her.

"Testimonials from... non-traditional couples. On what it's like to be in an interspecies relationship."

I'm not sure what I expected after my admission, considering how much the very idea of commitment tended to make her react. Yelling. A punch in the face. Laughing. A hasty retreat. But I damn sure wasn't expecting what happened next.

I felt her move in front of me, and slit open one eye to see what she was doing. She turned back around in my embrace and pushed another button on the console. Embarrassed as I was, I couldn't stop myself from opening both eyes entirely, and looking over her shoulder to watch her movements. What I saw was rather surprising, to say the least.

She'd hit 'rewind'.

Several seconds passed, and she hit 'play'. Never taking her eyes off the screen, her fingers flew over the keypad and before I could stop her, sound filtered through the increasingly small room we occupied.

' _I'll go first''_

' _No, I'll go first.'_

' _Does everything have to be a fight for dominance with you?'_

' _You're right, you're right. I'm sorry; would you like to go first?'_

' _...no, that's okay. You can go first.'_

' _You are impossible!'_

' _And yet, you're still here. I wonder why that is?'_

' _Masochisitic tendencies, I guess.'_

After I'd realized that Teandra's actions the night before had been completely genuine (or at least, not nearly as out of her control as I first thought), I'd been at a loss for what to do, or think. Programming had always had a calming influence on me, so naturally, I'd gone to my console and started working on lines of code, hoping it would distract me from everything my traitorous brain (and heart) was bombarding me with.

No such luck. Before I knew it, I'd opened up an extranet browser window and was looking up... things I shouldn't have been. It had started innocently enough. Just plain old, run-of-the-mill pornography. Then my searches had strayed into more... adventurous territory. While, I, myself, didn't have a human fetish, it appeared many, many other members of the Hierarchy _did_ , and the search results had been... educational, to say the least.

'Fetish' wasn't a strong enough word, even in my own language, for some of the things I'd seen that night. At first, I'd been completely dumbfounded at how many turians, both male and female, had taken a shine (as it were) to humans. While Shanxi wasn't as important to the newest generation of turians as it had been to the last one, the social and political tensions were still there on some level. Joint tasks like building the SR1 had shown our ability to work together, professionally speaking, and human and turian alike involved in such projects were quick to praise their alien counterparts. However, that still didn't explain how so many turians could be engaged in relationships with humans and I'd only _just_ found out.

You would think it was a huge state secret, or something.

Then again, people like my dad were still in charge of things in the higher levels of the government, military, and even scientific corners of our society. To them, it probably _was_ a huge state secret, something they found shameful and worthy of scorn. Men like my father didn't acclimate to change very well. They saw no reason for things to be done differently than they'd always been, and even went so far as to think that other species would be better off doing things "our way."

They saw many other races as inferior, and humanity was at the bottom of the list of races to take seriously. To people like him, humanity would _always_ be inferior.

I could never think that way, and the fact was I _didn't_ have a fetish. While I would gladly admit to _wanting_ the woman in front of me, her species had always been a bit of an afterthought in any fantasy I had. If she had any hangups about _my_ species?

I'd stick to the dreams and spare myself the heartbreak later, thanks.

It had been with these thoughts in mind that I'd started closing browser tabs with disgust burning in my gut... until, at the bottom of one page, in what looked like an advertisement for yet another fetish site (and no, I really don't know why I clicked on it, to tell you the truth), I'd found... something else.

Unbeknownst to me, there was an entire support network out there for people who were in, or at least considering, situations like the one I'd been dreaming about for a while now. (Albeit unwillingly dreaming about, but that didn't make it untrue.) And not just the physical part, but the rest of it. Things that my mind had been hinting at, but I hadn't really accepted that I wanted, in spite of my actions after Horizon.

Which was exactly why I hadn't followed Teandra up to her quarters. I knew that what I wanted and what she was offering might not (okay, probably _did_ not) match up, and I had to figure out what I was willing to give up if I was going to seriously pursue this. What I would sacrifice to keep her in my life in any capacity.

That led my line of thought back to the present, and I hazarded a glance at the redhead's face. I hadn't realized it, but my chin had come to rest on her shoulder, and much to my shock, she was leaning back against me as she listened to the couple on screen disclose the tale of how they'd gotten together.

Still at a loss for what to say, but knowing that watching the rest of the interview might make things even more awkward than they already were, I moved to shut down the video. However, my three-fingered hand was seized by a smaller, five-fingered one before I could manage it.

"You still haven't answered my question," she said softly, not moving her gaze from the screen.

I pulled back from her shoulder as I said, "What do you want me to say, Teandra? That I was surfing for porn and wound up here, instead? Well, there. I said it."

The back of her neck got even redder, and she didn't say anything for the longest time. Then, "I'm... I'm not sure what to say."

"That makes two of us."

"And here I was thinking you didn't want _anything_ from me, physical or... otherwise."

"Want? Maybe. Demand? Not on your life. How many times do I have to say..."

She turned around to face me again, as she finished my sentence for me. "...that you've never asked for anything more than I was willing to give. I know." She was studying some indiscernible part of my tunic rather than looking at me, and it occurred to me that she was at a loss for what to do, as well. Teandra _always_ had an answer for everything, whether it was a serious solution or a smart ass remark, and that she was being this quiet unnerved me more than anything else ever had.

Well, except maybe her little girl fight with Jack. I still couldn't shake the worry that little stunt had spawned, even if it was done and over with and everything was fine. She really could be too reckless for her own good sometimes.

A trait that had gotten us into this mess in the first place, come to think of it.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, as if she were debating the merits of what she wanted to say, and my eyes clamped shut as I shook my head involuntarily. _This is it, the big, 'You and I need to stay friends,' speech._ I cursed that damn console and the stupid pages I'd left open. If she hadn't seen them, then she'd never have been scared off...

All rational thought stopped cold as I felt one of her hands latch onto the back of my neck, pulling my head down toward hers until our foreheads met. My eyes flew open and I stared at her in utter disbelief. She was watching me to see what I would do, but I was too overwhelmed to comment, stunned by her use of the turian sign of affection instead of one that was more familiar to her own kind.

"I... I can't promise you anything more than fulfilling the physical aspect of... whatever this is. Yet. But... I can at least consider it."

I went to answer her, but she cut me off. "And I can't promise I won't make mistakes. A _lot_ of mistakes, really, because I don't think I've ever had what can be called a 'real' relationship. I mean, hell, most times I got one, maybe two dinners or rounds of drinks out of a guy before he ran off for the next girl with a..."

"Teandra."

"...yes?"

"You're rambling. _Again._ "

She sighed. "Yeah, something about _you_ does that to me. I'm still on the fence about how much it bothers me."

I chuckled, and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me. "You can do a number on my verbal skills, too, you know."

"Really now? Does that mean if you're talking straight, I'm doing something wrong?"

"What do you mean by..." I never got the rest of the question out, as it was cut off by a surprised sound in the back of my throat. She'd wrapped her arms around my neck and was scratching beneath my fringe, just like she had the previous night. My hands, working completely on auto-pilot, were wrapped around her hips and hiking her up to sit on the console before I even realized I'd moved.

She had a way of making me do that. A _lot._

"See, now that's the reaction I was looking for last night."

Before I could respond, we both froze as a warning blared out from the speakers behind us. "Unscheduled firing test to commence in 90 seconds."

" _ **V** **erna**_ ," we yelled in unison, and I all but threw her toward my cot as she tried to scramble off the console. Somehow, I managed to power the damn thing down before everyone in the sector (and aboard the _Normandy_ ) knew I (we) had screwed up, but it was close.

Not quite down to the last second, but… too close.

Once I'd finished the shutdown sequence, I turned to look at Teandra where she stood at the foot of my cot, and stopped short. Her face was a mask of shame and anger, arms crossed over her chest self-consciously again, and I moved quickly to reassure her that everything was fine.

"Hey." I stood in front of her, and used the knuckle of my foretalon to push her face up so she could see mine, drawing her gaze from beneath a curtain of red. "It's okay. Nothing went wrong. We handled it."

"More like _you_ handled it," she ground out, pulling away from my touch and flopping down on my cot.

"No, 'we,'" I insisted, "You got out of the way because you knew I know these guns better than anyone."

"I guess. But if I'd been thinking straight, I'd have engaged the goddamn interface lockout so something like that wouldn't happen."

"I was there, too, you know," I pointed out, sitting down on the cot next to her, "I could have done the same thing."

She groaned and threw herself face down on my pillow. "Screw your logic. This is a sign."

"Of what?"

"That this is a _really_ bad idea," was the muffled reply.

I wanted to argue with her, but the few times she'd ever been like this in the time I'd known her, arguing hadn't helped. Solutions, not platitudes, were the only thing that would snap her out of her self-doubting funk.

I let myself fall over onto my side, causing the cot to bounce with an exaggerated thump. When that didn't garner so much as a glance, I reached over and rolled her away from me just enough so we were face-to-face. "What do you do when a mission seems impossible, Teandra?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" She didn't try to get up or pull away, so I figured I was on the right track.

"Just answer the question, please."

"I come up with a game plan and I follow it. Until the shit hits the fan, anyway. Which it usually does."

"So, is that really so different from something like this?"

"Are you honestly telling me I should treat this like a _mission_ , Vakarian?"

"Not in the strictest sense, no, but it's not entirely different from the rest of our last three years together, in my opinion."

She mulled that over, then said, "So... what you're saying is we need ground rules?"

"Maybe. If that's what it's going to make you comfortable with this."

"...it takes two to tango."

This confused me. "What?"

Blue eyes, so full of determination to get her point across that she didn't even blink, bored into me as she explained, "It means my needs aren't the only ones that need to be taken into account, here."

If ever I had wanted to beat my head against the wall (again), it was right then. "Teandra, for the last fucking time," which was probably untrue, because I knew it would inevitably come up again, "I'm willing to take whatever you're willing to give. What do I have to do to make you understand that?"

She blinked at me, finally, her expression unreadable, as she lay her head down on her forearm. She studied me for a minute, as if she were confused, before she replied, "I swear, you've got to be the only guy who hasn't ever pushed his own agenda with me. Relatively speaking."

"You've _really_ been hanging around the wrong guys, Teandra."

She laughed at that, much to my relief. "Alright, alright, I get it. But you need to tell me what _you_ need, too. I won't stand for you catering to me and getting nothing in return."

 _This conversation cannot end anywhere good._ "I'm... not sure where to start."

"Is your list really that long?" She smirked at me, as if determined to find something to trip me up.

"That's not what I meant."

"Uh-huh. Sure you didn't. I bet there are a thousand and one things about me that you find annoying."

"What? When have I _ever_ called you annoying?" _At least, I've never said_ _it out loud._

She closed her eyes, chuckling under her breath as she replied, "Relax, Garrus. I was kidding."

 _Good job, Vakarian. She says she's open to the idea of being with you, and you turn into a stammering adolescent. Smooth._ "Fine, I'll start with a question, then: If we're 'together,' does that mean you'll be nicer to me? Isn't that what couples tend to do?" I wasn't really all that offended by her tendency to give me a hard time; I think we'd just been too many minutes without a joke, and that just wasn't our style.

"Only in public."

"...tell me why I wanted to do this, again?" She smacked her hand against my shoulder, none too gently, and I was satisfied to hear her grunt as she pulled her hand back. Then she looked at me in such a way that had me saying, with a laugh, "Hey, you did that of your own accord. Don't look at me like it was _my_ fault."

She glared at me, and I sighed, taking the "injured" hand in between both of my own and examining it for wounds. It was a little red, but otherwise looked fine. All the same, I began massaging it, and I wasn't even really aware of what I was doing until I looked back up to find Teandra staring at me intently.

"What?"

"Nothing," she squeaked. I mean it, she actually _squeaked_ , which caused me to stop what I was doing. I peered at her, trying to understand what she _wasn't_ saying, when our conversation from Eternity came to the forefront of my mind.

"Wait... I know your sides are ticklish... are your _hands_ ticklish, too?"

"Not… exactly." Her voice was somewhat more normal now, but not really. "Just... sensitive." She was speaking at barely above a whisper, and it took several seconds for me to see what she was getting at.

"Sensitive... how?" I asked carefully, making sure I didn't move my own hands again until she answered.

"Easier to show you." Her other hand was suddenly under the hem of my shirt, and I growled softly as she scratched ever-so-lightly at the hide in between my hip and torso plating. "Yep. It's a little like that."

My immediate reaction was to grab both her arms by the wrist and pull her hands up where I could see them. I was breathing a little harder, too, which she also picked up on, saying, " _Wow._ And I thought she was kidding..."

"Right. _About_ those ground rules... because without them, I'm at a distinct disadvantage right now."

"You know I prefer it that way. Aren't you used to me cheating _yet_?"

I stifled a groan. "I know rules of engagement are _meant_ to be broken most of the time, but I'm serious. I want to know what I'm allowed to do to respond, here."

She stared at me for a second, her expression somewhere between mirth and consternation, "Allowed? I tried to molest you last night, and you're asking me what's allowed?" She shook her head, smiling at me. When I continued to look at her expectantly, she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Ground rules." She paused, thinking, then said, "Well, what did you learn from those sites you were browsing?"

"...what?"

"It didn't look like you were looking up the KamaSutra, Garrus. I'm assuming you were looking for something a bit less... graphic, and a little more practical."

"...what's a KamaSutra?"

"Something we are _not_ reading until way farther down the line. Also, you're hedging."

"If you get to ramble, I get to hedge. You aren't the only one nervous here, you know."

This time, she had no snappy comeback. She lowered her eyes as she said, "Garrus... I told you before, if this is making you uncomfortable, then say so, and we'll..."

"Forget this whole thing ever happened? I think we're a little too far gone for that, don't you?" She didn't answer me. Her face started to close up, and her gaze became distant. _Oh, no you don't..._

"Teandra, look at me."

It looked like it was a bit of a struggle for her, but she obeyed.

"You could never make me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes, but never uncomfortable." I paused before adding. "Okay, you could never make me _emotionally_ uncomfortable. Physically... well, if we run out of cold water in the crew showers, or I punch a hole through the hull, it's going to be all your fault."

This brought a laugh out of her, which was a relief, even if it was softer and more cautious than usual. "I _said_ I was sorry. Besides, how was I supposed to know? You _have_ rejected me twice, Garrus. That's an all-time record for me."

"Like I said, you've been hanging out with the wrong men, Shepard. I'm a hot-blooded male just like anyone else, and I'll even insert an 'especially when it comes to you' in there. But you can bet if I thought you knew what the hell you were doing you'd have woken up on this cot this morning, scratchy blankets and all."

This garnered me another chuckle, and then she took a deep breath, saying, "Well, since you're so _nervous_ , I'll start. This can't interfere with the mission. Ever. What we're doing is too important for that."

"Of course, but what constitutes as 'interfering with the mission?' I think I need specific examples here, just to make sure we're clear."

"You dropping an order 'cause you're worried about me is definitely interference. Comm sex is okay, though, as long as it doesn't break your concentration." She winked at me, and I couldn't help but sputter.

"You tell _me_ to keep it professional and then drop that in my lap in the same breath? That's hardly fair, Shepard."

"Never said it was. Now, your turn."

"Alright, well, I think we need to keep this to ourselves, for now. I know the crew thinks we've been..."

"Screwing each other's brains out?"

"...I was going to say 'joined at the hip' for some time now, but I suppose that works. And you're _really_ not helping me concentrate when you say things like that."

She smiled, an almost wan expression, as she said, "Yes. Unfortunately, I'm quite good at that. Seduction is one of the many skills of an assassin, Garrus. Perhaps her best, if she has the body to really work it. There was this one mission..."

"Rambling again," I interjected, starting to play with her hand again to get her to focus on the present conversation.

"Dammit," she paused, "Well, I know one thing: We've got to make sure we don't let this change us. We still talk everything out, make sure we don't rush it."

"You mean, keep the lines of communication open? You know what that means, don't you?"

"What?"

"I get to call you out when you pull that passive-aggressive bullshit of yours."

"I am not-"

"Yes, you are." She glared at me, but this was one thing I wasn't backing down on. "I mean it, Teandra: I'm too worn down to be in a situation where I have to play mind-reader to someone who's supposed to be my partner."

"You're really not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

"Not for a fucking second. You want easy, there's lots of options out there. Those options aren't nearly as interesting, mind you..."

"...tell me again why I wanted to give this a shot?"

I'm not sure where the nerve came from; maybe I just wanted to remind her of what the potential perks of this arrangement were. I pulled her closer to me and nuzzled the side of her neck before nipping at her ear. "Is this reminder enough?" I said hotly, continuing to breathe on her neck, as this had been (admittedly accidentally) successful at getting her attention several times throughout our acquaintance.

Her breath started hitching almost instantly, and you could tell that it suddenly occurred to her exactly _where_ we were, despite the seriousness of our talk. You could almost see her shoving her thoughts away, finally managing to gasp out, "Okay, I'm _so_ convinced. But I completely forgot everything _else_ we were discussing."

"We were discussing ground rules... and I'll have you know that's a small taste of payback, by the way."

"Ground rules. Right," she said, still working on getting her breathing back to normal, much to my amusement. "Okay, so what other demands do you have of your currently willing slave?"

I jerked at that question, completely unprepared for how appealing I found that mental image. _Easy, Vakarian. She's joking, like she usually does. Remember what she said about Thane's leather jacket?_

Of course, if she was going to make jokes, I wasn't about to be outdone. "Well, I did happen to find my handcuffs while cleaning up the other day... if memory serves, they fit you quite nicely." I saw her tense again, squirming slightly at the thought, and the first thing that came to mind was, _Oh, now, payback is a_ bitch _, isn't it?_ Then, my mind became fixated on another word she'd used: _Willing._

I backed away a little, to a disappointed whimper from her, and said, "That brings up another very good point. Another ground rule, as we're putting it." I thought very seriously about how the next thing I had to say would go over, and there was no way to do it delicately. So, I just came out with it. "I won't do this if you've been drinking. You _do_ know that, don't you?"

For the first time since the conversation had started, there was real fear in her eyes, the same fear she'd held the very first time we'd discussed her views on sex and alcohol. We'd been working on the MAKO at the time, and been interrupted by Joker before she could explain its origin further. I wondered if she would do so now.

"Garrus, I'm not sure that's a good idea." She rolled all the way over towards the wall, staring at the ceiling as she went on, "And I _can't_ make myself tell you why. I don't want to see the look on your face when you find out."

"I warned you before I can handle just about anything, you know. And that almost nothing you say can change how I see you."

"You also have access to files that will tell the whole story, through your old C-Sec contacts, if you _really_ want to know. All _I_ will say is that the one time I tried, it was a disaster."

I rolled my eyes. "Shepard, we're already looking at the possibility of some kind of horrible interspecies awkwardness thing..."

She pushed herself upward, staring down at me from her new position, "I'm not talking 'awkward,' Garrus. I'm talking 'arrest record.' And _no_ , I won't give any more details right now. I'm having a hard enough time not getting cold feet about this whole damn thing as it is. You have no _idea_ how I feel right now…" She hesitated, then said, "We're crazy to even be considering this, aren't we?"

At her dejected expression, I reached up to pull her back down beside me, starting to reassure her.

"You act like it's the _first_ time you've considered it. We both know better." There had been more than a few examples of that spark between us to make my words need no explanation. Her face, however, fell once again as I spoke.

Blanching slightly, something glaringly obvious from so close, she said, "You knew? About the transport that day?" She blushed almost the color of her hair at these words, trying to bring her hands up to cover her face as she did so. I stopped her, trying to fathom what I'd done _this_ time to set her off.

"Transport? What are you talking about, Shep..." I stopped mid-sentence as it hit me, before I started laughing non-stop, rolling off the cot and onto the floor as I tried to get myself under control. But the very _idea..._

"You went... and talked to the Council... after daydreaming... about... by the _Spirits_..." I gasped for a minute, trying to catch my breath. "You _really_ should have told Sparatus that. Maybe he'd have eased up in sympathy. Anderson probably would have wanted to shoot me, though…"

When she didn't respond right away, I peeked back up over the side of the cot, catching sight of her narrowed eyes. That should have made me shut up out of self-preservation, but only served to make me laugh harder.

"I'm _so_ glad my physical discomfort is so amusing to you..." she said sardonically, sitting up and crossing her arms in irritation.

I took a few more harsh breaths, sitting back up with difficulty, and the occasional stray chuckle, as I responded, "Physical discomfort? No. Having a daydream about 'relieving tension' right before meeting the Council, especially when my stupid ass made a comment along those lines right before we got out of the cab? Yes. You must have been ready to pummel me."

"You know, I don't have _all_ the translations down yet, but I don't think 'pummel' is the right word for what I wanted to do to you..." She stopped at the look on my face. "Shit, I'm rambling again... hey, wait a second," she interrupted herself, as if only just realizing something I'd said. "Horrible interspecies awkwardness thing? _You_ didn't seem all that awkward last night."

"You didn't give me a chance, with all your reminders of your 'research on turian erogenous zones.'"

"Hey, that was a smooth line, I think."

"It could use some work."

"Well, I'm pretty sure if you hadn't been wearing armor last night, I'd have proof you're lying."

It was a good-natured jab, but not far off the mark. That brought something else to mind.

"Not that it would have meant anything if you _had_ had proof." I sat up more fully, leaning back against the wall as I spoke. "Shepard, you're one of the only people I've got left in this screwed up galaxy who actually believes in me. I'm not messing that up for _this_ ," I gestured about the room at large, trying to indicate the whole sexual hurdle that had been grown up in front of us. "That's why alcohol is a deal-breaker. If you need it, then it's not what you really want, anyway. When it comes to this, I want all, or nothing. I'm not settling for shades of gray, here."

She seemed to consider this for a minute, reaching up to run a hand through her hair as she did so. Finally, face determined, she responded, "I understand. I don't agree with you, but I understand. I'm willing to try again... without alcohol. For you... for _us_. I'm not sure I ever would for anyone one else, but with someone I can trust? Yes. And that's you Garrus, without a doubt."

"Well, we won't be able to keep it a secret from the crew for long, but as I said, maybe we shouldn't be blatant about it until we figure everything out for ourselves."

"I'm okay with that. Take our time. Give everyone, including ourselves, time to adjust to the idea of their galaxy-renowned vigilante dating some human hero." I snorted at the juxtaposition of our roles, countering before I could think things through.

"Exactly. I mean, not that waiting is all bad, anyway. You know me. I always like to savor the last shot before popping the heatsink..." I stopped, groaning internally at the look on her face, before sputtering out, "That metaphor just went somewhere horrible, didn't it?"

She laughed, saying, "No, I'm pretty sure it just went somewhere awesome. You sure know how to seduce a fellow sniper, don't you?"

I shook my head at her mischievous expression, grinning myself. Who the hell knew what was going to happen from here on out, but it didn't matter, so long as we backed each other to the end. Face suddenly lighting up, she tapped her omni-tool, addressing the shipboard AI once again.

"EDI?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Where is the _Normandy_ 's nearest docking station to our current location?"

"We are currently in the Omega Nebula."

She turned back to me. "I don't know about you, but I think the whole damn crew needs a night out. Know any good bars on Omega where no one would want to kill us?"

I thought for a minute, finally supplying, "The Varren's Fringe is decent. Prices are fair; all species are welcome, for the most part; and they pay tribute to Aria, so the mercs tend to behave."

"Sounds perfect." She turned her attention back to the loudspeaker, calling out, "EDI, get Miranda on the comm, please."

"Yes, Shepard."

She kept her 'tool on speaker, and it was only a few seconds later that the accented voice of the Cerberus operative said, "How may I help you, Commander?"

"We're docking for repairs on Omega, and to pick up some equipment and upgrades. In the meanwhile, the crew is released for shore leave. Relay the message that they are released until 0600 tomorrow, and that I don't care how they come back on board, so long as they're back on time. Stragglers get latrine duty. Also, let them all know that Cerberus will be funding the tab for anyone who chooses to join us in the Varren's Fringe, and that I want the whole ground crew there for at least one round. They are dismissed as soon as we dock."

"You are _not_ putting a bunch of drunken soldiers' fun on The Illusive Man's expense account."

"Watch me."

"Well, then, why don't you have your 'XO' give the order, since you refuse to listen to me anyway?" I glanced at the Commander, wondering how she was going to handle this latest test of her resolve.

"'Cause he's a little busy at the moment."

Miranda was apparently unconvinced. "What could he possibly be doing that makes him too busy to take an order from you?"

"Nailing your Commander into the bulkhead, maybe? What the fuck does it matter, Lawson? I gave you an order, not him." She stopped, grinning, "Though I'm thinking about giving him one right now..."

The comm clicked off before Shepard could finish that sentence. Though, honestly, I'm not sure if she'd ever intended to finish it at all.

"Um, I seem to remember some speech about personal and professional..." I commented, in time to her laughter.

"Miranda needs to be an exception. She really does." She let out a breath, turning to me, then actually _giggled_ softly as she said, "So, Vakarian, how about we try for a genuine date that doesn't involve bloodshed or bullets?"

"Sounds positively boring, honestly, but I'm willing to give it a go."

* * *

Our movement through the Varren's Fringe was halted abruptly as a voice I was unused to hearing in that place caught Shep's attention.

"I've got a ship, and I've got a mate, and I only brought _one_ with me to Omega. What do you say, _Lorcana?_ "

"Well, aren't you cute? Get many dates with that line?" Something about that second voice sounded vaguely familiar, too, but I couldn't quite place it. Shepard had stopped in her tracks by then, however, her gaze moving to the turian pair standing at the bar. I heard her sigh, shaking her head as she broke away from our group as they made for the only table that would hold our massive crowd. I followed suit, curious as to what she was doing, waving Tali on when she started to do the same.

"Ogrinn! Still at your old games, I see." She walked up next to the female, taking a stance next to her with arms crossed in a show of female solidarity. "Can't you see the lady is blowing you off?" She turned her head, loudly whispering to the girl with a conspiratorial air, "He tries to get under the plating of EVERY girl he comes across, no matter what species. But, he's mostly harmless." She was turning back to the male as I moved up beside her. "Aren't you, Ogrinn?"

"Is _this_ the thanks I get for doing your dirty work, _sashita_? And I'll have you know you're the only human who's gotten that line. It's one of my better ones." The turian seemed completely unconcerned by being interrupted, his tone playful as he spoke to the redhead, but my vision was turning a violent shade of blue near the edges.

 _How is he so familiar with a human Spectre? And where the FUCK does he get off referring to her in that way?_ He glanced at me, then back to Teandra as he went on. "I thought you said you weren't into turians? Isn't that why you wouldn't show me your... gratitude over shooting that bartender?"

"Are you kidding? What I _said_ was I didn't entertain turians who had so little concern for their bond-mates. Did you miss the last part?" Her voice was no more serious than his was. Come to think of it, her posture was relaxed. Casual.

 _By the damn Spirits... she's_ flirting _with him!_

Another unfamiliar sensation assaulted me, possibly for the first time since I'd know Teandra. It only got stronger the more I thought about what was happening in front of me.

And the more I thought about it, the more I _really_ wanted to rip someone's throat out.

Ogrinn, however, had no knowledge of how much danger he was in. He glanced pointedly at me, then the female, and back to Shepard. "Hey, I'm up for a little extra company. That is, if you think you can handle the chafing, _sashita_."

She laughed, a sound that thankfully covered a growl I hadn't meant to let escape.

A growl spawned by hearing him use that pet name again. _What the hell is_ wrong _with me? Since when do I act like a jealous suitor around this girl?_

 _Since you decided that she was yours, sometime this morning,_ I answered myself. _In your head, you've painted her, haven't you, Vakarian? Castis is going to..._

Then, I caught sight of the female's face and markings for the first time, about the same time she noticed mine, and all worries about the situation up until that point disappeared. In spite of the distortion from my injuries, she appeared to have _no_ trouble recognizing me.

A groan soon followed the growl, but this time there was nothing to hide the sound. _This... is not good._

"Garrus Vakarian?" The white of her minimal clan markings served to frame her features quite well, just as it always had. She wasn't in uniform, though, wearing one of the latest turian female fashions with an air of familiarity. She went on, "You are exactly the last person I would have expected to find here."

Shepard, for her part, was silent. Her head whipped from the girl, to me, and back again, clearly trying to discern how this random female knew me.

I sighed, knowing that any attempt to side-step the situation would not end well. _Man up, Vakarian. There's no avoiding her, so out with it._ "Hi, Jerlah. Been a while, hasn't it?"

Teandra stopped, smiling slightly as she thought aloud. "Jerlah. Now where have I heard... Holy _SHIT._ Your rifle!"

I stared at her, hoping she wouldn't make the next logical connection. I should have known better. Teandra Shepard was many things, but 'stupid' wasn't on the list.

"You'd only name it after someone... wait." She started giggling maniacally, much to the other turian's amusement. "You _ben'jee_. _This_ is Ms. Flexibility, isn't it?" The expression Teandra shot my way was downright evil. You could tell from both her posture and the twinkle in her eye that she found this new development, and the chance it would give her tease me mercilessly, nothing less than a boon from the heavens. It was clear she considered this nothing but a huge ball of fun that those gods of coincidence and irony had handed her, neatly gift-wrapped in swathes of bright fabric.

_So much for the whole "treating me nicer in public," thing._

We'd been out on our own dozens of times in our acquaintance, yet, as soon as we declared (even if only between the two of us) that we were going to give regular, plain-old 'dating' a shot, complications came out of the shadows to mess it up?

_Damn you, Murphy._

I _really_ should have known better than to expect anything less. This had to be the universe's way of punishing me for ever telling her that story in the first damn place. _At least things can't get any worse..._

Still laughing, Teandra put her hand on Jerlah's forearm and cried, "You HAVE to come get a drink with us!"

_...I stand corrected._

"Shepard, I'm sure she..."

Jerlah laughed, "Oh, no, I have plenty of time to spare right now. A drink sounds like a _great_ idea."

As they walked towards the table occupied by the crew, I shuffled behind after a moment, Ogrinn calling, "Lucky bastard!" at my back with an amused air.

"Is he still telling that old story? Does he include the part where he followed me around like a lovesick pyjack for weeks afterwards?"

I groaned again, briefly contemplated joining the turian behind me in his search for uncomplicated relationships. But screw that. I'd bested _Teandra_ in battles of wits. _And_ Jerlah before her. I could handle this.

With them together, though...

I swallowed. _Spirits, I am screwed._ _ **So very**_ _screwed. And not even in a fun way._ Still, it was time to give my pride a soldier's funeral, if it was going down.

"Oh, I wouldn't say 'pyjack'," I said as I joined the table. "More like a _lishka._ Definitely a _lishka_." I took a seat that had so _thoughtfully_ been saved between my current girlfriend and my ex. I began the introductions as I sat down, beginning with my current shipmates and ending with the former. "Everybody, this is an old shipmate of mine from the _HSV Warlord._ Meet Jerlah Shavina, scout extraordinaire and the second best sparring partner I've ever had."

"Second best? Since when do I only rate second?" She actually appeared a bit annoyed by my words, her mandibles flexing slightly as she attempted to bore a hole in my face with her gaze.

I rolled my eyes at the response, gesturing towards the Commander by way of explanation. "There's number one."

She leaned forward, looking at Teandra again in light of this new information. "That little waif of a human? No offense, but I don't see it."

"None taken," Teandra answered. "We _humans_ have a saying: Never judge a book by its cover. Translated, it basically points out that appearances can be deceiving."

"As I found out the first time we sparred," I joked. At Jerlah's quizzical look, I explained, "She pulled a knife on me."

Jerlah looked back at the Commander, tilted her head, and absently tapped a talon against her glass. It was an old habit of hers, tapping out 'Die For the Cause' while she was deep in thought. "A bit underhanded, but then again, with his size advantage, the talons..."

"And reach. Let's not forget reach," Teandra chimed in with a smirk.

"And reach," she conceded, "I could see how additional weapons would be to your advantage. Almost a necessary one. How did you manage to keep it hidden from him?"

"Oh, it's easy, if you know anything about misdirection. Move so that his eyes go where you want them to during the warm up, and he'll never know what you've got up your sleeve."

"Oh, I do like the way you think, Shepard."

Another groan was building in my throat, but I managed to keep it to myself. _Why me?_

Teandra waved to the bartender, indicating that another person had joined the table, and that another round was required. I briefly considered ordering a double of my current choice, then decided that drunk would be an even more sure way of getting myself into trouble than if I were sober.

"And no, I'd still insist it was a pyjak. He always was a bit overly romantic for my tastes... still, I'm sure the galaxy's beaten that out of you by now?" The last part of the question was aimed at me, and I'll be damned if I knew how to respond to that without getting myself into trouble with one girl or the other. Plus, something about her tone was searching, and it made me leery of answering until I had a better feel for where she was headed. She'd never been much of one for idle conversation, which made her presence even more of a mystery.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being a romantic," Kasumi chimed in, "just like there's nothing wrong with a little extra fun without romance. It's all about perspective."

"And communication," Teandra added. "So there's no expectation of anything else. I take it that wasn't high on your list of priorities, if he was following you around afterwards?" There was an edge to her voice there, a very familiar one, recognizable because it was the same voice she used when talking about my father. _At least she's followed her own advice, in this case. She's made it VERY clear where we stand._ And she was right, because Jerlah sure as hell hadn't been clear at all.

Tali, as if seeming to grow tired of the topic, said, "I do not understand how _any_ of you can make sex so impersonal. Even outside of the precautions quarians must take, it still does not change the fact that it is supposed to be much more amazing when it is more than just physical."

Fourteen heads turned her way, causing her to shuffle her feet under the table a second before straightening her spine. "What? I cannot be the only one who thinks that way?"

The scraping of a stool signaled at least one deserter. "This conversation is getting too goddamn girly for me. I'm going to go find a lonely, romantically-challenged asari and fuck her cross-eyed." Exchanging a look, Jacob and Grunt followed suit, and I idly found myself wondering what trouble those two were off to get into; but Thane, Mordin, and I all shared a moment that plainly said ' _I am_ not _missing this.'_ Though, in the salarian's case, I was pretty sure the interest was purely academic.

Once upon a time, I may have been uncomfortable with listening to 'girl talk in the name of science.' Now? No damn way I was going to miss this window into their minds.

"Why would it have to be about anything other than physical need," Miranda asked, in a tone that made it a statement instead of a question.

"'Cause then you could just use a vibrator? Fuck, cheerleader, I thought you'd at least know _that,_ " Jack pointed out with a smirk. "I've been with enough species to know it doesn't make all that much difference anatomy-wise. They're all selfish jerks when it comes to the bedroom, anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Jerlah commented with a sideways glance my way. I did a double take, wondering if anyone else had caught that look. If so, no one bothered to comment.

"For quarians, it's a nerve stimulation program, not a vibrator," Teandra pointed out. On the opposite side of the table, I caught sight of Tali wringing her hands, the way she always did when she was embarrassed. "Makes _me_ jealous as hell. I mean, there you are, bored beyond all reason while on a stakeout, and figure 'What the hell?'"

"Why would you jeopardize a mission that way? You might miss the target." Jerlah interjected, taking another drink.

"Not if you're just that good. Don't know about you, but I _never_ miss a target," Shepard retorted with a laugh.

"I still don't get how you all can be so callous about something so special," Tali said again, causing Mordin to open his mouth and intone, "Defensive response indicates lack of experience."

Jack guffawed, "Wait, what did the Doc just say?"

"He said she's a virgin," Kasumi commented, with a knowing half-smile.

"I am not." I'm pretty sure our little quarian friend was blushing, even though we couldn't see it.

"You _so_ are," Teandra laughed. "That explains the lovey-dovey crap. Does Kal know?"

I'm pretty sure Tali blushed harder behind her faceplate. "I am _not_ a vir..."

"Okay, so what's your definition of virgin, then? 'Cause if you didn't do the deed, no amount of foreplay counts," Jack declared, leaning back so that her chair was propped on two legs, feet on the table and arms crossed.

"Just because I do not run around impaling myself on everything that moves does not make me any less of a woman, or a soldier. I just have higher expectations than that swill you bed." Jack's chair came back down with a crash at the quarian's words, the biotic sputtering as if she were unsure whether to laugh or get angry. Finally, she settled on the former, taking another drink to the amused applause from the table.

"Oh, man, we have got to get her back to the Flotilla soon," Teandra teased as the clapping died down. "That ripped hunk of a quarian has gotta get him some of that. What with that snug outfit, that sexy voice and the way he handles his _rifle_..." She paused for a minute, sighing wistfully as her eyes glazed over, before shaking her head and asking, "Sorry, what was I talking about again?"

"I am so glad to know you all think so highly of the males of the galaxy, ladies." Thane decided to comment, appearing both amused and perturbed by the byplay.

"Oh _please_ , drell," Jerlah responded. "I don't do cross species, but it's obvious your outfit is meant to attract _just_ that sort of attention."

"I am an assassin. Distraction is sometimes imperative to accomplishing the mission." For all his serious demeanor, that man could deliver a sarcastic line with such a straight face. If I hadn't been present for the entire conversation, I would never have known he wasn't _actually_ giving a talk on undercover work.

"That sort of manipulation is what got Vakarian over here in trouble in the first place. If he hadn't cheated at Skyllian Five..."

"I did _not_ cheat," I stated, finally rejoining the conversation to defend my own honor. "You all just assumed you could read my tell. Since I _knew_ you knew about it, I just faked it when I had a flop hand. Battlefield diversion at its finest."

"Well, I lost a week's wages to that game, all because of your 'diversion.' Then again, I'd say it was worth it in the end, wouldn't you?" She shot that same look from before my way once again, and it only continued to reinforce my thought from earlier.

 _Okay, maybe I'm crazy, but is she hitting on me? Because,_ she _dumped_ me, _last I checked._

As if sensing my thoughts, Mordin commented once again as Teandra waved for another round, her own non-alcoholic beverage long gone, "Turian female hormone levels indicative of courtship signals." He said it as if pointing out a girl flirting with you were the most natural thing in the world, causing the entire table to start laughing at Jerlah's obviously flustered body language.

Well, everybody except Tali, who had crossed her arms, openly glaring at the turian with her own body language.

" _Spi'rata_..." She muttered warningly in my direction, only to move her glance from my face to Teandra's, the latter completely unperturbed. _Not that I want an overly clingy girl, but would it_ kill _you to act just the least bit jealous, little Spectre? You're acting more relieved than upset._

"I think you've got the wrong idea, Mordin. Jerlah made it clear a long time ago I wasn't good for anything but an occasional one-night stand."

Damn right, I was still a little bitter. Being used, even for sex, does that to a guy after a while.

 _I_ had been led to believe we were building towards something more permanent, only to realize I'd become, how did Shepard say it... a "booty call." I mean, by the spirits, she'd met my mother when a group of about six of us went home on leave. All I heard for months afterward were variations on, "When are you bringing that Jerlah girl back? She's from a prominent clan; you should consider taking that further."

I'd listened to my mother's drivel in spite of my common sense, in spite of _knowing_ I shouldn't expect more, and when things tried to move beyond the physical, Jerlah broke it off.

And _now_ she was regretful? The day _after_ Teandra and I finally began moving forward? What was that line my little Spectre always sang? _Sorry, girl, but you missed out?_ I'd moved on, a long time ago, and playing relationship games just wasn't in me anymore. There were bigger things to worry about, and I had more than enough issues to deal with already with the girl I'd chosen to dance with. Not that I planned on sharing _that_ little tidbit today.

With _either_ of them.

And once again, the cosmic gods of irony saw fit to punish me for complaining about my situation.

At Jerlah's somewhat defiant and hurt expression from my words, Teandra elbowed me under the table. Since the bartender was still absent, she used that as a cover, saying, "Garrus. Come give me hand with the drinks, will you?" When I hesitated, she stood and grabbed my arm, yanking me down the bar until we were out of earshot from my old turian companion, as well as the rest of the table.

"What are you _doing_?" She hissed at me as she spun me to face her, much to the amusement of the patron to our left.

"Huh?" I asked, confused, as I shot a glare at the batarian who had decided to eavesdrop. He quickly vacated his stool as I continued, "Again, with the vague accusations. Care to clarify?"

"You're brushing her off, idiot. Why?"

I cocked my head to the side, studying her. Her body language indicated she was irritated, but prior to her statement I would have assumed, or maybe hoped, it was jealousy. Now, _with_ her statement, I reevaluated my thoughts.

"Still confused, here. Why does it matter why I'm doing it?"

She sighed with visible exaggeration. "I told you that I couldn't promise you anything more than 'blowing off steam.' You don't owe me anything. And it's obvious she still cares for you."

"Hate to break it to you, but the feeling's _not_ mutual. And you've got to be the first woman I've ever been involved with who's encouraging me to sleep with someone else."

I was trying to draw a smile out of her, but failed as she went on, completely serious, "You've been hanging out with the wrong kind of girl then, first of all. And second of all, I call bullshit, Vakarian. If nothing else, I know your cues when you're attracted to someone by now."

I resisted the urge to slap my carapace sarcastically, rolling my eyes. " _Right_ , since I'm so adept at romance it'd be a sure thing, even _if_ I didn't finally have a shot with the woman I've dreamed about for the last two and a half years."

She scrunched her nose at me, processing that, before finally saying, "Thirdly, almost everything we agreed to during our 'meeting' can be summed up in one all-encompassing rule: Friends first, everything else second. You always said 'uncomplicated' was all you had time for." She pointed to where Jerlah was talking with Tali, both women gesturing in such a way that indicated they were discussing weapons tactics. "You have time for a normal relationship, a normal _life_ , now. She can give you that, and as your friend, I'm telling you, you should at least consider it!"

I wanted to point out that, with the universe on the line, nothing was going to be 'normal' again for a long, long time. If ever. However, that wasn't what was really bothering me about her little speech. "And what if that's not good enough for me?" I crossed my arms, returning her glare. "What if I want something else?"

"We talked about that this morning. You know that's something I can't guarantee."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Garrus..."

"Answer the question."

"Both," she said emphatically.

"Not even for me?"

" _Especially_ for you."

I tightened my arms, pulling back, wounded by her words. She jabbed her finger in the direction of the table once again. "I can't give you the life you deserve. Bring _her_ home and your father will welcome you with open arms. Even _I_ know she's a great catch by turian standards, you _ben'jee_."

Much to my dismay, I nearly snarled at her, until I reminded myself that she had no idea how true that statement might be. After all, I'd not told her about the sequence of events immediately following her death. _A discussion for another time._ "You really tend to negate your arguments about our suitability when you punctuate them by speaking in old turian. You know that, right?"

No, I really can't go very long without being sarcastic. Why do you ask?

"Gah! _You are impossible!"_ She exploded, throwing her hands up in frustration, growling in the cutest fashion. And she probably didn't even realize she was echoing the sentiments of one of the subjects in that vid we'd been watching earlier that day, which made it all the more amusing.

"And that's why you love me. Oh, right. Nevermind."

She stammered for a moment, a familiar shade of pink coloring her cheeks as she fought to find a retort. Apparently finding none, she settled for rolling her eyes, then turned and stalked back toward the table. I laughed as I thought, _"Score: Vakarian-1, Shepard-0."_

Halfway there, she apparently remembered the drinks we were supposed to be getting, because she turned around and headed right back for the bar. I started to comment, only to have her say, "Oh, shut up," before I could even snicker.

We returned from delivering the latest order, the frazzled bartender close on our heels, to a discussion about what Jerlah had been doing since leaving the military.

"Been on my own for a year or so now, but still had that adventurous streak. Found out there is quite a lot of work out there for official couriers. Gets me my own ship, and I get to travel the galaxy. It's quite a setup."

"Sounds like it," I said, retaking my seat, trying to ignore the pointed look I was getting from Tali. A tinkle of glasses brought my attention back behind us.

"Oh, give me that, you clumsy thing. You obviously have more than you can handle..." came Shepard's amused words at the wait-staff's almost disaster. "Go take care of your other customers. I've got this." The waiter gave her a relieved thank you and she pulled the tray, which she'd already rescued from disaster when he tripped, completely out of his hands, balancing it with expert skill.

 _You know, once the galaxy is saved, we could always settle down somewhere and open a restaurant..._ I snorted. _You can't even get her to commit to a_ relationship _, and you wanna buy real estate?_

How did Dritan Acanthus put it in Basic? _'Keep talking like that, and I'm revoking your guy membership.'_

And why did I think, if she knew what was going through my head, Teandra would agree with that sentiment? I'm _so_ glad she wasn't really a mind-reader; I would have been in so much trouble if she was.

As she distributed the contents of the tray with a bit of a flourish, Jerlah's gaze never left her, continuing her story none-the-less.

"It's definitely the job for me, I find."

"Is that why you're here, one of your courier jobs?"

"Actually, yes, which makes running into you, of all people, even more serendipitous. Have you seen Lantar lately?"

I started, the entire game losing its embarrassing cuteness as it took on a whole new level of personal disaster for me. "Why would you ask that?"

"Well, you two were always so close, especially after he and Mishta took the rites."

"Why are you looking for him?" I was purposefully tuning out the table now, determined not to let anything cause me to slip up. Jerlah would know if I was lying at any point, and I had no desire to face a speech on honor from her at the moment.

"Castis is trying to find him. In fact, if he knew where _you_ were, he probably would have asked you directly."

"I doubt that, Jerlah, but that's beside the point. Why is _he_ looking for Sidonis?"

"Aw, hell, I'll do this one for free. There's some sort of big Vakarian family meeting in a couple of months, and he wants Lantar there."

"So, he didn't tell you what the meeting was about?"

"No," she hesitated, "but you already _know_ what it's about, don't you?"

Shepard was over my shoulder now, putting my drink down, and I found myself wondering why she hadn't commented on this line of conversation. Then again, the tap she gave the back of my neck, reminiscent of a kill tap, as she pulled her hand away said a world of things. The two biggest being, _I am_ not _happy_ , and, _We are_ so _going to talk about this when we get back home..._

I guess that was cosmic retribution for pushing her boundaries, paying her back by giving her an opportunity to do the same to me.

"Okay, now quit dodging, Vakarian, and answer the question: Have you seen Sidonis?"

"Last I heard, he'd turned himself in to Citadel Security for the murder of ten soldier on _this_ rock," I spat back.

"So the rumors are true, then?" Someone who didn't know her would have taken her tone as mild interest and left it at that.

Unfortunately, I knew better.

She was baiting me, and I knew it. But, there wasn't much I could do about it if I wanted to find out what was being said about me behind my back. "Rumors?"

"That he's been with you the last two years, Vakarian. Don't play dumb; you were never good at it."

"That's what _I_ keep telling him, Jerlah, _however,"_ Teandra sat the tray in her own chair, refusing to sit so she could look the other turian in the face, "I don't appreciate you questioning a member of my crew that way. You're bridging over from personal questions to interrogation, and I don't like it." Her voice bordered between a warning and a challenge, and it made me more than a little nervous. The _last_ thing we needed on our first night out was to end up in a bar fight.

The hand wrapped around Jerlah's glass tightened. "Where do _you_ think you get the authority to give me orders, Shepard? Besides, this is hardly your business." Oh, I knew that tone, too. That tone had sent many of our ship-mates running for cover during our time aboard the _Warlord._ It was usually prelude to an ass-kicking.

"Do you even realize _which_ Shepard I am, lady?" There was a dangerous glint to Teandra's eyes now. "Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, blah, blah, blah... I might not wear those titles all the time, but I _did_ earn them. _I_ look out for my crew, and _I_ take responsibility for anything they do, which means that this is _definitely_ my goddamn business."

I waited for it, the inevitable angry response, as they stared each other down, wondering how the hell I was going to get us out of _this_ predicament if it all went downhill.

Instead, Jerlah laughed. "Damn, Garrus, what have you been teaching this girl? She sounds like a Hierarchy CO."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. _Thank the Spirits for small miracles._

"Trust me, I know," I responded, finally hazarding a glance between the two women, though it _was_ kind of gratifying to hear another turian say it.

Even if that same trait was going to get me a sound dressing down later.


	15. Just Like Old Times

_Yeah here we go for the hundred time_

_Hand grenade pins in every line_

_Throw 'em up and let something shine_

_Going out of my fucking mind_

 

_I've opened up these scars_

_I'll make you face this..._

Linkin Park - " _Bleed It Out"_

 

**Chapter 14 - Just Like Old Times...?**

"Garrus, will you hold _on_ a minute?" I called out, chasing after the turian at an almost run in an attempt to catch up. His quick pace was hurried, possibly in an attempt to _avoid_ the very thing I was trying to do.

The evening had ended on a friendly note after my little verbal battle with Jerlah, the table slowly emptying as we all swapped war stories. Finally, the turian had taken her leave, but I made sure she had a way to contact me if she ever needed help tracking down a target. I'd felt like we'd at least been on amicable terms at the end of the night, and I wasn't going to discount the fact that there seemed to be at least _one_ turian that wasn't completely put off by the obvious connection Garrus and I shared.

Connection or not, though, I still only had a slight inkling why he was currently moving away from me at such fast clip.

"You wanna tell me _why_ you're running away so fast?" I asked when I finally _did_ catch up, several blocks later, and began matching his pace.

He shot me a worried look, just bordering on menace, and I decided that maybe I should change tactics. A batarian passing from the other direction caught my attention for a second, and I lifted the edge of that tunic dress in order to flash my pistol, showing him we weren't easy prey. He tilted his head to the left, his way of showing me he admired my skill at having "made" him, but I dismissed that almost immediately. My focus was on Garrus.

" _Afeni_!" I grabbed his arm, stopping his movement and turning him to face me. "If I don't get to be passive-aggressive, you don't get to pull this avoidance bullshit, either. Does the idea of talking to me about your family actually bother you _that_ much? Or is it explaining why you seem to have forgotten to mention your family connection to a mark while on a _mission_?" I had planned to stay calm, to worm the information out of him, but that plan went out the trash chute as I watched his face grow more and more defiant as I spoke.

_Oh, boy. Good thing this is Omega and not the Citadel, 'cause I have a feeling a fist fight isn't far off if I don't get my temper under control._

"Why does it matter, Shepard? Any of it?"

"Because it matters to _you._ "

"Shepard…" he began, but I stopped him.

"Wait. You know what? We shouldn't be having this conversation out here on the street, and I'm pretty sure neither of us is going to want to feel caged while talking this out. Is there another place around here, maybe more like a pub, that we can go to?"

"Not really. There's _one_ bar other than the Varren's Fringe here, _Invictus' End_ , but I'm not sure its your kind of place…"

"It'll be fine. You know as well as I do that the streets of Omega aren't exactly the best place to put ourselves after dark, especially when I tend to appear such an easy target."

He considered that, then finally nodded. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

I followed his silent form the three or so blocks to the bar in question, realizing immediately upon entering _why_ he had been so concerned. It was obviously an establishment once meant to cater to multiple species, the decorations on the wall ranging from a graphic rendition the Battle of Iwo-Jima to a bloodied turian woman in leather armor, standing atop a pile of mangled bodies, some sort of spear-like weapon held high above her head. Glancing down across the carnage to the caption, I saw it read, "Lorcana D'Vataria."

 _Ah, so this is_ Lorcana.

I didn't get long to admire the artist's work, however, before every nerve in my body began tingling as the rest of the patrons in the room caught my attention. Immediately to our left were a series of bar-top style tables, with chairs of obvious turian design. Farther back, not quite flush with the wall, a row of dimly lit booths began, continuing all around the back of the mid-sized room until it ended in a final corner booth, flush with a curtained door. This presumably led to the rear storerooms and back exit, since there was no other way in or out of the cozy little pub that I could see. The turian barkeep stood behind the chest-high counter and hadn't stopped moving even in the few seconds it took me to observe the room, his actions framed by a wall of variously colored and ornate bottles labeled in alien tongues, so unusual that the letters didn't even appear to be words. There was enough room for the turian to turn and grab a bottle, but not much more, and my own experience told me that it was the perfect setup to handle large crowds. The scarred and scratched bartop was well cared for none-the-less, and had a distinct air of care about it, probably at the ministrations of the turian behind it.

But then again, he wasn't what set me on edge.

Regardless of the original intent of the establishment, it had apparently become a gathering place for the turians of Omega, though the current crowd was rather small compared to the other places I'd been to. They were relaxed, conversation pitch at a casual tone, but I was suddenly self-conscious regardless.

"Good," I heard Garrus rumble, "the Talons aren't here tonight. Otherwise, I'd never let you step foot in this place. The barkeep's a good guy, though, and someone I _know_ won't poison anything you buy. He likes his customers alive."

"Yeah, it is easier to generate repeat business that way…" I murmured. Lack of the turian gang or not, I could feel the glances we were gaining. No, _I_ was gaining, and they made me wary. Self-proclaimed non-racist or not, being surrounded by so many turians, both male and female, that may hold with the old prejudices? It sat funny.

 _Quit being a wuss, Teandra. Garrus puts up with this_ every _time we hit the Citadel, or any other port of call, for that matter. You can't handle five minutes in a place that might set his mind a little more at ease?_

That settled it. If it would get me my story, or even just give him few minutes of peace, it was worth it.

He approached the barkeep with an air of familiarity, and I found myself catching snatches of words and phrases as we walked. The language was one the translator had always had issues with, something Garrus once explained to be intentional. A lot of turians used an older dialect specifically to avoid it being easily translated, especially in environments like this one. However, Garrus used it himself on occasion, and we'd made a game out of learning each other's words, so I still managed to get about one word in three.

_Battle stims... cheating…_

_Yes..._ _**are** _ _. Gives you… unfair… battle…_

I might not have understood the whole phrase, but I found myself wanting to respond with _boskaverna_. 'Bullshit,' roughly translated. I say roughly because from what I understood, a 'boska' was like a bull in only the most obvious ways: It had been used early on in turian society to create a sort of tanned hide for clothing, had a temper that caused it to charge if provoked, and had been used as a food source before synthetic production had made raising them for profit impractical. There was still a sect that preferred the real thing, and rumor had it that a goodly portion of Sparatus's salary went to such luxury items.

Still, the translation was close enough for me, and would have been for Garrus as well, if I'd chosen to share.

 _Damn,_ I thought, _when did my comprehension of old turian get so much better? I probably couldn't speak a whole sentence to save my life, even discounting the lack of a second vocal box, but I understand a lot more than I thought I would._

The bar was mostly deserted at the moment, probably due to the absence of its primary patrons, and my partner took a seat at the there, gesturing that I should do the same.

"If I didn't know any better," he whispered, as we waited on the turian at the far end to finish with his current customer, "I'd think you were nervous." His face was somewhere between amused and smug, probably since he _had_ tried to warn me that it was a bad idea.

"Me, nervous?" I bluffed. "Never."

"Apparently I'm not the only one who's a horrible liar."

"Did you _have_ a point?"

"Not originally, but I think I do now…" Whatever purpose he was going to explain was interrupted by the approach of the barkeep.

"Well, well, if it isn't good old Gary! Have no' seen you in a turn of the jungle or so. What can I do for ya this fine evenin'? I have no' got any jobs for you, if that's what you're after. Been trying to keep quiet, an' on Aria's good side." This non-stop diatribe was given in a hurried but pleasant voice, and I found myself reminded of another turian we had met before, back on Noveria. This man held similar markings, stark white on a very dark grey, and had worn the turian version of a smile even _after_ his gaze had flicked to me, even as he kept his hands busy cleaning glasses and refilling snack bowls.

I liked him, for some reason, though I'd be damned if I knew why.

"No, no, Partare. No business tonight, actually. Was looking to grab a drink and steal a corner to talk to my friend, here. Just wanted to make sure we wouldn't be expecting a crowd." He slid a credit chit over as he spoke, awaiting a response to the unspoken question.

"No' _expecting_ , no, but they don' leave me a schedule. Should na' be a problem, though, if they do show up. I seem to remember ya being able to take care o' yourself in a fight. Question is, can you take care of her?" He nodded in my direction.

"I can take care of myself, thanks," I said, eyebrow raised. "He's not my keeper."

The phrasing I used was nothing different than I always used, but seemed to hold some some kind of significance to the man in front of us. He looked at me, hard, but not unkindly.

"My mistake, missy. Didn't realize you weren't marked."

 _Ok, now I_ know _I need to research these customs more. What the hell does he mean by_ marked?

Whatever it meant drew a growl from Garrus, low but easy to hear (and feel) at such a short distance.

"Easy, boy. I meant no harm to ya. You've always been good to me, an' it wouldn't be right if I didn't return the favor." He stopped his talons on the edge of the spotless glass he was wiping at, glancing back to Garrus. "Your usual booth on the end should be free, if you still want it. And first round is on me, on accoun' of the slip up. You want your usual?"

"For this conversation, might as well."

"And for your lady friend?"

I thought, seriously, before answering, "Screw it. A shot of anything you have levo-compatible." Garrus shot me a look. I shrugged slightly, sending the message, _Yeah, I know it means no fun tonight. But fuck it… this night looks to be calling for it._

He nodded, somewhere between me and the bartender.

Drinks in hand and tab started, we took the indicated corner booth. The fact that it would give us both a wall to our backs (and, subsequently, a view of the room) was not lost on me, and I smiled.

Sometimes, he and I thought just _too_ damn much alike to be believable.

Once we were settled, I took a deep breath, and asked my question. "Alright, Garrus. Fill me in here. Why didn't you tell me Sidonis was your brother-in-law?"

"Rite-brother."

"What?"

"You're the one who insists on getting the damn terminology right. We say 'rite-brother'."

I nodded. "Alright. And I knew I'd seen his markings before, but I never would have connected him to that one holo of Mishta you showed me. How _could_ he? _How_ could _you?_ "

He took a sip of his amber drink (Invictus whiskey, I would guess, as that was his usual preference), not looking at me for a long while.

"I don't _know_ how he could have, but I know _I_ couldn't have, not at the end. Even though, as his brother, it was my responsibility to take the shot."

"What in the world did he have to gain by killing them off? If it was _you_ he was determined was out of control, why not you?"

"I've asked myself that same question a million times since that day. It eats away at you, knowing you survived and they didn't." He bowed his head, and I reached a hand over to put on top of his own.

"Believe me, I know that."

He looked up, face contorting in pain as he said, ' _Verna_ , Shepard. I'm sorry. Sometimes, I forget…"

"It's okay, Garrus." I knew he hadn't meant anything by it. "But dammit, _why_ didn't you tell me? You said it yourself, there's no way the Hierarchy would have brooked with his actions. We could have gotten a sanction for the kill, right?"

"No."

"Did I misunderstand…"

"Oh, no. You understood the law just fine. But the laws don't apply to a clanless one." He reached up to trace his markings sadly, "I technically have no right to wear these, but old habits die hard."

I held my breath, trying to understand. "What happened, Garrus?"

"Please don't make me tell you."

"I'm not making you do anything. I'm _asking_ you to let me help you."

He took a deep breath, and another drink, before finally saying, "After the news of your death, I combed the Citadel for information about your body. I needed _proof_ , dammit, but the Council classified everything so that I couldn't access it. So I approached Pallin, trying to find out if he knew anything… and he all but accused us of what everyone else had. I went into a rage, punched him, and decided I was leaving the Citadel for good.

"Castis was at the Palazar hotel for one of his 'encourage the troops' talks. I went to see him, hoping for… _fuck_." He took a _much_ bigger drink than the last time, swallowing with determination before setting the empty glass down. Almost immediately, it was replaced by our host, making me wonder how many times this situation had played itself out here in my absence. "I guess I was looking for _some_ kind of solid ground to stand on, as my mind tried to wrap itself around the idea you were gone.

"He was no better than Pallin, accusing us of things that have never happened, seeing things that weren't there; dishonoring your memory mere days after you were gone from my life forever. I wouldn't tolerate it. Words were exchanged…"

He stopped abruptly, his fist clenching around his glass, and it looked like it physically hurt him to say the next words he spoke. "Words were exchanged, and he told me to get out and never come back."

I took a breath, and a small sip of what the bartender had supplied. I was expecting swill, but instead found that it was not only levo-compatible, but probably a top-shelf version of asari rum. The familiarity calmed me somewhat, and I asked the obvious.

"I'm pretty sure I get the significance, but maybe you should explain it to me, to make sure I'm clear."

"He disowned me, Shepard. That means I'm no longer of the Vakarian clan. I have no right to title, inheritance, or to visit home. In essence, I don't exist once that paperwork is filed."

Something around my heart clenched at his words, but I forced myself to keep talking. "Can we undo it? Fix it? _Something."_

"Once it's filed, Shep, it takes _years_ to undo it. And none of that can undo the social stigma. If I were to set foot on Palaven, I would probably be arrested on principal. And if they found me with _anything_ that connected me to my family, a holo of Mom, Mishta's rite-band, anything, I could be incarcerated permanently. It is the ultimate dishonor, never an action that is taken lightly."

"All because of me? Because your dad thought we..." I shook my head. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Every thought about me being bad for him came back to mind in a rush. "Oh, good god, what the hell have I done?"

Before I could get any farther into my own self-loathing, Garrus' hand tightened around mine. "No. You are _not_ taking the blame for this. You were dead, and he was acting like an ass when I needed a father. I wouldn't even give a damn, but when I can't go home..."

It took barely a second for my brain to run the numbers, and when it was done, I was _livid._ " _Sabira_... that fucking bastard cut you off from _Sabira?_ How could he do that, separate you from your mom **knowing** she probably doesn't have that much time left?"

He sighed heavily. "Neither of us was thinking straight that day. But the good news, if you can count it as such, is that apparently he hasn't filed the paperwork yet. Not that I knew that while holed up on _this_ rock, but I guess it's something."

"So it's not too late? We can still undo this?" Relief swept through me. "That's what the meeting's about, isn't it?"

"That's the impression Sol gave me yesterday when she told me about it. She seems to think one little vid chat will fix this, too." He shook his head. "And she says _I'm_ naive."

Then, it hit me: The reason he'd been so reluctant to tell me about all of this, why he was so determined to keep me out of it. "It's me, isn't it? He won't undo it if he knows about... us."

He nodded. "I told you he didn't care for the Spectres. And he's more perceptive than you could ever guess. He knew before _we_ did that there was an attraction, simply from vids and my behavior at the mention of your name."

"Famous detective, right?" I said, distracted, forcing myself to swallow an entire mouthful of the rum to try to clear my head. As the alcohol burned its way down, I tried to process everything. I wanted to push the point, try to force him to go home, make him forget about everything we'd talked about. But damn it, it was time to say the words I found so hard to say around him.

"What do _you_ want, Garrus? Don't feed me bullshit. In all seriousness, if this could work out perfectly for you, what would it be?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"No giving me shit later?"

I considered. "Yeah. Fine. No holding it over your head later."

"I want them to accept you for what you are to me, whatever that may be in the end, and I want my family back. But as long as we're discussing impossibilities, let's give Sol a sweet temperament _and_ cure my mom while we're at it." He took another drink, "This isn't the Spiritland, Shepard. The chances of Castis accepting you as anything, even as a marked one..." he trailed off, and I seized on that last detail before I got distracted by other things.

"Yeah, about that," I asked, "What does _that_ mean?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You're delving into things you may not like, Shepard. You think of turians as all honor and battle and glory. That may be my fault, but it doesn't matter why anyway, what matters is that isn't a realistic picture."

I stared at him, fighting the urge to scoff. "What the fuck, Garrus? What are you trying to say? That you think I'm interested in you _only_ because you're turian?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," he said, completely unapologetic for his words.

That was the point he had been about to mention at the bar, wasn't it? That he was more fascinating to me _because_ he was a turian. I wouldn't have cared if he were a goddamn vorcha (okay, _maybe_ a vorcha), he'd still be _my_ Garrus.

"You are such an ass. Yes, I'm interested in your species' battle tactics, and the way they can fight their way out of some of the most impossible situations. Someday, the Reapers are gonna make their move, and without the Hierarchy to back me as well as the Alliance? Humanity is screwed, and everyone else will fall like dominoes afterward. The turian government may be the hardest to convince out of all the galactic community that we're telling the truth; so yeah, I study battle tactics and cultural taboos 'cause it might save our asses one day.

"But the culture itself, the mating customs? I don't _study_ those. Know why? 'Cause I'd rather learn them from you, personally. Which leads me back to my original point: You can damn well bet I want to know what _marked_ means, if for no other reason than that it pissed you off."

He looked at me, mandibles twitching in irritation, before finally slamming the entire contents of his glass back, dropping the glass at the finish. This time, the bartender took a minute to perform his magic appearing act, and Garrus waited until a third glass was in front of him before speaking.

"Marked, when applied to a turian couple, would have meant that one partner was rite-wed and separated, and had chosen a new partner."

"Because you bond for life, right? You're legally bound to that person, or your vows would be a lie, and you'd be without honor," I recited, remembering something he'd told me once, it seemed like _ages_ ago.

He stared at me, hard. "You picked up a lot, didn't you?"

"I had ulterior motives, even if I didn't want to admit it."

He snorted at that, continuing, "The other partner is known as 'marked.' It isn't necessarily an insult in that context, just a label. A way to show that you are connected to that person, even if they can't legally ever be part of your clan."

I swallowed, having an idea of what had upset him. "And for a non-turian couple?"

"To call the non-hierarchy person 'marked' is the equivalent of calling them a whore. Someone who is there simply to take the place of the Hierarchy partner you _should_ be with."

"I take it he didn't mean it that way?"

"Partare? Probably not. He knows human culture pretty well himself, and meant it simply as a way of showing your connection to me. But even if he _had_ meant it that way, it wouldn't have been meant it to be insulting to _me_. In a true situation, especially..." he hesitated, then closed his eyes wearily and went on, "for a turian to have a human 'marked one' is viewed by some as a badge of conquest. A way of showing superiority. I didn't even know relationships like that existed until last night."

I felt my face harden, and tried to control the reaction to keep from upsetting him. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it? No one is ever going to take us seriously. In any capacity."

Slowly, he shook his head.

"Jerlah didn't seem put off by it."

"Jerlah has always been rather... open-minded. As were most of the people who I associated with on a regular basis. I've always been a little rebellious, and anyone who didn't approve learned quickly that I'd tell them where to shove their opinions."

"Well, you haven't changed much, have you?" I meant it as a joke, but the serious gaze he fixed on me dispelled any humor the statement was meant to hold.

"I've changed a lot, actually. You made me pay more attention to the consequences of telling the galaxy to 'fuck off.'"

"With my stupid speeches?"

"With your _examples_ of why that can't resolve every issue; and all the times you're proven tact can be just as effective."

I just sat there, his gaze holding me pinned as he bared his soul, possibly more fully than ever before in our entire acquaintance. There was something about his family, his culture, that always made him edgy, and edgy isn't where snipers function best. I hated the way that made him feel, and as such tried to avoid the topics that made him uneasy. His gaze held none of that now, though, and I was immediately reminded of the way he'd looked at me when we'd first found him. That combination of desperation and forceful attraction that I had been quick to dismiss as wishful thinking.

There was something about Omega, about this place, that gave him balance, wasn't there? He'd lost and found himself here; and with no home to go to, especially if the things he'd done here became known to his father when his rite-brother arrived for that meeting...

_Oh, FUCK._

I just barely managed to keep the worry and pain out of my voice as I asked,"What is your _dad_ going to do if Sidonis comes to the meeting and starts running his mouth?"

"I don't know. He'll probably see Lantar's actions as a preemptive version of my own; nothing but my rite-brother's attempts at fulfilling his familial duty to assist my suicide."

"I don't believe this shit. I wish you'd told me _before_ the mission. I might not have interfered then."

"Yes, you would have," he interrupted me, again sighing, but this time there was a somewhat wistful sound to it, "Because in your book, family is the be all and end all to everything."

"You're probably right," I sat back in my seat, rubbing at my eyes wearily as I tried to think, "But I still wish you hadn't withheld mission information." I finished my drink, waving off the second one the bartender tried to ply me with. But he was insistent.

"Also on the house, missy. I'm sorry for what I said back there. I should'na made assumptions, especially when it comes to Gary, here. He's got a good head on his shoulders, and I never should'a even thought he'd bring anythin' but a partner in here."

I stared at the old man, but saw nothing but sincerity in his face, a completely open honesty. Shouldn't have been surprising on a turian, but he reminded me of that sort of bumbling uncle you found in every story… I smiled, realizing my movie-watching was painting my opinions again. But still, he seemed to mean well, and with those words, how could I say no? I didn't have to drink it, after all.

I watched as he put the glasses in front of us, removing the empty ones, and noticed that Garrus' face had closed up while I wasn't looking. His mandibles were drawn in tight, his neck muscles were tense, and he was staring at his glass like he wanted to dive into it and never come back out.

I'm not sure what came over me, as I've never been one for public displays of affection (undercover work excluded, naturally), but I couldn't stop myself from reaching out and pulling on him until he faced me.

"Hey. We'll find a way around this. You're a brilliant tactician; I _know_ you'll figure it out." He scoffed at this, unpersuaded by my attempt at stroking his ego, so I did the only thing I've ever seen leave him speechless: I laid my forehead against his, and smiled lazily when his eyes flew open in shock for the second time that day.

Eventually, he found his voice again, and asked, "Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

I snorted, "Fuck yes, I'm still mad at you. But not enough to not help you when you're hurting."

He pulled away from me, looking down guiltily, and fidgeting slightly with the glass in his hands as he did so. Whatever had made him so uneasy seemed to be holding his mouth prisoner for a second, but it wasn't but a breath later that he spoke.

"Well, since we're already talking about what I _didn't_ tell you, and about family, I might as well mention the other tidbit from that mission that I didn't feel like sharing. One of my team was... someone you knew," he stopped, then drove forward, "Someone from your past."

I drew back sharply, overwhelmed at the wave of shock that crashed over me, and taking warning from the look on his face that that we weren't talking about some random person I'd met once. "Who, Garrus? Who did I lose?"

He sighed, and as he intook breath to speak, we both suddenly became aware that the room had gotten way too quiet. We glanced towards the doorway, where a group of about ten turians, all wearing the same crimson clan tattoos and markings, had seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The varying shades of red that also dominated their clothing were more than enough to tip me off to their gang affiliation, and the identical looks of hatred they sported certainly helped solidify the notion.

I started to stand, but Garrus placed a hand on my arm, immediately putting us both into battle mode.

"Talons, I take it," I muttered as they started moving into the room, shooting glances in our direction. I could only assume they had caught our little 'kiss' in their peripherals when they came in, and had a fucking opinion. Well, dammit, there were at least a few turians who could kiss my ass in that regard.

"Yep. Got your cannon?"

I snorted. "And my switchblade. Think we have a shot?"

"Your _switchblade?_ How the hell did you get that back?"

"I have no fucking clue. Cerberus must have found it. It was in my room when I got there the first time..."

"Tell me later. Right now, I think we might be in..."

The group was well within earshot now, with turian hearing taken into consideration, and you could tell the ringleader by the way the others seemed to be deferring to him every few steps. They all kept looking to a turian that had a _nasty_ scar across his left eye, as if waiting on him to say something. He approached the bar, my new friend placing a glass in front of him without a word. He slammed the shot down with ease, then turned to the pair of us once finished.

"...trouble," we muttered in unison.

"Now _that_ is a marking I haven't seen in a _while_. Since when do Vakarians slum it up on merc rocks like Omega, instead of locking up hardworking guys just trying to make a living?"

" _Great_ ," I whispered, "he's not even _here_ and Castis is causing us problems."

"Did you say something, _birsh'tat?"_

I felt a low rumbling start to my right, and I placed a hand on Garrus' forearm. Lightly, I tapped on it in quick succession, indicating ten adversaries as he kept his attention focused on the leader, staring him down.

"I'm sorry," I countered, "I couldn't hear you over the sound of how annoying you are. Leave us alone."

I heard Garrus let out a breath, his way of telling me to shut it.

_Right... turian dominance battle. Fuck me, I'm no good at letting other people take charge in a fight._

Then, the asshole sneered at me, turning to speak to Garrus. But the fucker was using the older dialect.

" _Kurnil phila esh unka bur, ella ast degatta de."_

I might not have been able to _directly_ translate every word, but body language and intuition filled in the blanks for me.

"Did he just say what I think he did?" I asked in disbelief, hand moving for my switchblade as it became obvious we weren't going to be able to just walk away.

"Probably not," he responded with a smirk, eyes still never leaving the fucker in front of him, "You're not that sick-minded."

I sighed. "I was afraid of that. I'm gonna get blood on my new pants, aren't I?"

"Not if you're careful."

"C'mon, I just _bought_ these things. I really like them," I said back, but apparently eye-scar had heard enough.

"You think we're scared of you two? You're outnumbered five-to-one," he said, _still_ trying to stare Garrus down as he gestured to the well-built and scarred crew behind him, but my partner never even came close to flinching, or losing his lazy smirk. I sized up his little clique, deciding they would be tough, but we could take 'em.

And I'd _sure_ as hell had enough of waiting for him to submit to _my_ turian.

"Hey, Vakarian. Did you know _ben'jees_ could count?"

This drew Scar's gaze from Garrus, and there was a collective gasp from the crew behind him as he realized his mistake. His look of disgust at my casual use of old turian quickly turned into rage as he realized my trick, and he reached down deliberately into his waistband, removing an absolutely _wicked_ looking knife. Jaggedly serrated on both sides, the damn blade itself had to be eight inches long.

I thought about making a comment about that being the only thing in his pants, but quickly decided not to push my luck. Insulting the guy that probably _ate_ Crocodile Dundee might not be my most brilliant idea.

"Human, I'm going to make sure you're marked in more ways than one by the time I get done with you."

Then again, fuck it.

I laughed, quietly engaging the release on my switchblade beneath the table, waiting for him to tip his hand.

Garrus heard my movement, and mirrored the laugh, commenting, "Don't kill anyone, Teandra. Then you'll _definitely_ get blood on your pants."

"Awww, you're no fucking fun."

"Hey, I don't want to piss off Aria. The Talons pay her tribute."

I glanced at the bartender, mostly to see whose side he was on, and found, to my surprise, that he looked... amused.

"Garrus," I whispered, more out of habit than any belief we wouldn't be heard, "is Partare going to be okay with us wrecking his bar?"

"If he wasn't, it would be a first. I've been in so many fights here, I should have a plaque on the wall."

"Are you fucking serious?"

He grinned at me as he whispered, "If there were more people here, he'd be making a killing off of all the bets."

As if he'd heard us (and knowing turian hearing, he probably had), the subject of our segue piped up from the bar. "You've been gone too long, boy." He was standing with is arms crossed, his mandibles flaring and his eyes were full of mirth. "They've been on Aria's bad side as of late."

I looked back at Garrus then, and he said, completely deadpan, "In that case, Little Spectre... have fun."

Scar really didn't know what to make of all this, temper finally snapping. "Shut up! I've had _enough_ of your mouths..." He lunged forward, only to find the table in his way as Garrus and I threw it up at the same moment, the knife becoming buried in the wood-like material.

"Damn, that thing was big..." I started to say, only to stare as Garrus pulled a similar one from his boot, only it had to be _ten_ inches. He shot me a smirk.

"Vakarian, you've been holding out on me. Shouldn't have had that drink."

He grinned, mandibles flaring in amusement. "Picked up a few of your bad habits while you were gone. Hope you don't mind."

"Know how to use that thing?"

"Well, why don't we find out?" He tossed it to his dominant hand as I shoved the table out, catching at least two of the goons off guard. One managed to bound over the projectile, only to end up with a hole in his throat, courtesy of Garrus.

 _One down_ , I thought as the blood sprayed.

Scar, already back on his feet, managed to brace the table and yank on his blade, to no avail at first. Garrus and I both jumped behind our booth, my eyes still drawn to that damn _sword_ he was carrying, now slick with blue.

"Fuck. Is that a compensation thing for turians?" I asked, ducking out to peek around the side of our cover before turning back, just as Garrus did the same.

"In my case? Understating," he shot back, grinning all over again. A scream alerted us to one of the goons finding our hiding spot, and this time it was my turn to attack, shoving my switchblade into the back of his knee, just above the spur, as he fell in front of us. Garrus cringed in time to his howls of pain.

"Remind me _never_ to get on your bad side..." he commented, driving his own blade hilt into that tender spot under the fringe, incapping him.

_Two down._

He turned to me. "Up?"

"I _hate_ playing bait," I spat, but quickly rolled over the top of the couch, catching the next guy off guard. Reversing my hold mid-leap, I drove my own blade into his eye with little resistance, due to its slim design.

 _Three down_.

"See, boys, sometimes smaller really _does_ get the job done better. There's hope for you after all." As six pairs of eyes and one half of a pair turned my way, all I could think was: _I_ really _**hate**_ _playing bait._

The subsequent yells of rage and instantaneous rush in my direction sent me diving over the bar, ducking up under the railing to escape the horde while Garrus flanked. I glanced at Partare, who still hadn't moved.

" _Hi!_ Seems like I was just talking to you..." I commented, somewhat out of breath, to a chuckle from him.

"Missy, you walk out o' her alive, and you're welcome back anytime. I coul' make a killin' offa you two."

I groaned internally, hearing the bickering of the turians fighting to decide who would have the privilege of coming behind the small bar first, when a yell caught their attention.

 _And_ that _would be my oh-so-timely knight in shining armor..._

I jumped up, rolling left around the bar up behind the back of the nearest Talon, as his friends turned to face their newest adversary. Before I could even get eyes on Garrus, though, two more thuds warned me that he was putting his hand-to-hand skills to use again.

_Only five more._

Unfortunately, we were out of tricks. Now it would come to skill.

As the nearest self-proclaimed predator realized he had been flanked, my blade was countered by his at the same instant. This was just a run-of-the-mill street knife, though, and I had plenty of practice against those. Still, as I parried and attempted to strike again, my absent thought was, _I'm never going to be late for our morning matches again. Ever._

I finally ducked up under his reach, driving my knife into a place that muscle memory and instinct told me was a gap in the plating, dropping him.

EVER.

 _Four to go, and_ speaking _of sparring..._

"Hey, Garrus?"

"Little busy here," he called, and I caught sight of him ramming a shoulder into the gut of our adversaries while dropping another with a well-placed kick to the waist. He didn't have the fluid grace of our newest assassin, but there was definitely a form of beauty to watching him counter multiple attackers without so much as breaking a sweat.

_Really shouldn't have had that rum…_

I ducked under my newest opponent, sending him over my back as I continued, "You said no sex if I'd been drinking, right?"

"Yeah."

"Does foreplay count as sex?" I ducked again, much to that same turian's dismay as he tripped over me a second time.

"Not that I see how it's important _right this minute,_ but I would probably say yes." He headbutted the next guy with that last word, dropping him in a daze. This left us one goon each, plus Scar, who had backed off to watch the proceedings with a wary and careful eye.

I dropped all the way to the floor, kicking the turian's feet out from under him with my own as he passed again, toppling him a third time. I resisted the urge to laugh.

"Well, Fornax always likes to point out that fighting is foreplay for turians. Aren't we breaking your rule?" I rolled over, finally stabbing my plaything in the back in an attempt to keep him down for good. It seemed to work, anyway, and I watched Garrus drive an elbow into his opponent's face while I attempted to pull my switchblade out.

"Hey, if a guy can't get laid, winning a fight against ten armed men, and with his girlfriend along for the ride? That's the next best thing."

I pulled on the hilt again, not quite getting it dislodged, when I heard Garrus' panicked warning. " _Shep-_ "

A warning that went unfinished as rough hands grabbed me from behind, yanking me back as I felt cold metal come against my throat. Those hands weren't just rough, they were _strong_ , not that I'd take any chances with that particular knife in Scar's hold.

_Fucking rookie move, getting caught unawares. Stupid, Teandra; real stupid._

Problem was, damn if this position wasn't familiar, and not in a way that would make me do anything but freeze up right now. Some days, post-traumatic stress was a fucking bitch.

Okay, _most_ days.

 _Fight it, dammit. Don't fall into the memories or you are_ fucked. _Probably in more ways than one._

I focused on Garrus' face, the mask of calm he wore, and let that be my anchor. I kept me grounded in the present, out of Finch's arms, and gave me the presence of mind to wait to take my move.

"You're playing a dangerous game, merc." My partner's voice sounded almost _too_ calm, I was proud to say, but that seemed to piss off Scar. He smelled of unwashed body and old blood, so different from Garrus, not that I'd ever really thought about that before. My air supply was becoming thinner as he continued to squeeze, and on some level I almost wished for Red's presence at that moment.

_She ain't coming, girl. You were drinking, remember? That means you're on your own._

My captor gripped me tighter, point pressing slightly deeper as Garrus tried to take a step forward. "I don't think so, blue-face. You and me are going to sit here and have a nice little chat until the rest of my boys get here. I don't know _who_ the fuck you two are, but you don't get fighting skills like that on the street. That means spec-ops, and spec-ops means info. Info sells around here."

"Wow, an honest to god entre-" I started to say, and this time he truly _did_ cut off my air for a second.

"Bitch, if you don't shut your mouth I'll give you something to do with it. But _after_ I take care of your mark-keeper, here. Behave and I might just let my boys be a little rough with you to put you in your place."

Mark-keeper. Whore. Bitch. I was getting really tired of all the names. And the threats.

"You might want to watch what you say, Talon." As Garrus spoke, his tone taking on a dangerous edge as he did so, knife still held nonchalantly in his right hand as he moved it back and forth to catch Scar's attention. Taking the hint, I moved my hand silently for my thigh holster, blessing the slit in that damn tunic dress that let me get to it.

"You aren't going to do _verna_. Not while I got her pinned down over here." I clicked off the safety, praying to whatever deity was listening that Garrus could keep his attention just a few more seconds.

"You're right. But then again, it's not _me_ you should be worried about," he commented. I reversed the pistol until it was upside down, aimed up into his chest cavity, and fired.

Immediately the pressure on my throat lessened, and the knife fell, the body dropping behind me as the bullet followed its course to exit out his back, hearing only a single ricochet as it did so.

"It's _her_ ," Garrus finished with a chuckle, then quickly moved up to grab me, perhaps seeing in my face that I was only a breath away from collapsing.

"You okay?" while he seemed completely unconcerned, he examined my neck a little more carefully than was necessary, and his voice held all the worry he wasn't showing. I wondered if he had seen my almost fall into the abyss, but now wasn't the time to ask. A conversation for later.

"Fine. Just shaken..." I started to say, only to be was interrupted by what started as a clapping of hands from our barkeep friend, to be closely followed by the other patrons of the bar that had stuck around. I looked around in a daze, trying to fathom what the hell was going on.

"Yep, anytime Missy," Partare reiterated, "an' after seein' that, thanks for no' killin me."

Garrus glanced around at the reaction of the audience, grinning uncontrollably as he teased, "You keep this up, Teandra, and you'll be more famous than me on Omega."

Considering the ridiculousness of that statement, I think he was going for humor, if the look in his face was any indication. His voice held a tone of amusement in spite of our close call, but even with the grudging admiration I found on a few other faces, I couldn't shake the feeling that I should be pissy about the whole series of events.

Thing is, I _so_ wasn't. I might have been a little shaken, and more than a little perturbed by the seeming acceptance of the people who had been determined I was an intruder so soon before...

But I was also fucking _exhilarated_ beyond all belief.

We'd just taken down ten men with nothing but _knives_ (well, okay, with one exception). I looked at the carnage of fallen bodies, some dead and a few just down for the count, but all dispatched, and finally laughed. This allowed me to release all of the tension from our little setback, and finally grin at Garrus. He nodded to show he knew I was okay, and released my shoulders.

"Now, where the hell is that guy with my switchblade?" I started looking around, the bar's patrons moving back about their business as we moved among the wreckage.

"Sorry about the damage, Partare," Garrus said, throwing me the closed blade as he swiftly combed the bodies, finally tossing several credit chits on the bar as he finished.

"Should we clean up the mess?" I asked, walking over next to Patare as I spoke, "Usually with this much carnage we're already running away by..."

A shuffle at the door interrupted my words, and we looked up to find somewhere in the vicinity of twenty-five more of the crimson-garbed men we'd just dispatched.

"Oh, _riza_..." I said, while Garrus said nothing, an even better indication he agreed with the sentiment than if he had spoken.

"Missy, I thin' you should reconsider that runnin' bit. This'll cover the mess," he nodded to the substantial pile of chits, "and a bit more."

I nodded, muttering, "Back entrance?"

"Under repair, I'm afraid," he responded. "I'd offer ta distract them, but..."

I looked around, spying something that might save our ass, but it would be a _little_ tough. I turned back to Partare.

"Won't be necessary, old man," I tiptoed up, kissing him on the cheek, causing him to look at me askance. I heard a laugh from Garrus at me falling back to using the human gesture, but I was pressed for time. "Thanks for the willingness to help, but we got this."

I moved around the back of the bar, ducking down to where I knew the breaker should be.

"Hey, Garrus." I peeked up over the top, making sure he was listening.

"Yeah," he said, glancing at me as I ducked back down.

"Keep them busy for me?"

" _Sure,_ no problem, Inigo. For I am the Dread Pirate Roberts..." I shook my head as he left my sight completely, concentrating on the work at hand as I listened to the ongoing conversation.

" _We saw where she went. You and your little friend are gonna pay for all this. Nobody messes with the Talons."_

Great. More posturing. Maybe it'd buy me some time.

" _She's not hiding, she's lying in wait. Why don't you go have a look when you're done trying to get under your buddy's plating over there?"_

I worked my way through the interface, fingers flying, almost sensing Garrus telling me to hurry the hell up. Fuck... the light systems were too well encrypted for the time we had. So much for sneaking out.

But... I tapped a few more keys, finding what I was looking for just as the conversation resumed.

" _Tell you what, she's a cute little thing, for a filthy human. Why don't you share her, and we let you walk away?"_

There was a scrape of chairs as I finished hacking my through the next system successfully. I hesitated, then said, "Fuck it," and hit the button, praying they kept up with some version of health and safety protocols here.

_So much for my new pants..._

Immediately, the room filled with a blaring alarm, only a slight precursor to the waves of flame-retardant foam that began pouring out of the holes in the ceiling that housed the sprinkler system.

There was a series of curses, and a resounding array of crashes and thumps as the slippery substance coated everything: the bar, the tables, the patrons...

Me.

 _Fuck all, this shit is cold,_ I thought as I glared at my leather bottoms petulantly. Then, shaking off my irritation, I stood, carefully stepping around the bar and grabbing Garrus on the way to the door.

"You could have _warned_ me," he said in disgust, as we leaped over the figures who were now in a dog pile on the floor. "It'll take _days_ to clean up this mess."

"And _days_ for them to follow us. Besides, Wesley, it was too late to go back into the Fireswamp, but a tactical retreat was _definitely_ called for."

We cleared the doorway, taking off in the direction of the _Normandy_ docks like a shot. As we passed block after block, the almost deserted streets offering no resistance, however, I heard Garrus mutter something in old turian.

Again, my translation skills weren't perfect, but it sounded suspiciously like, "Nothing like a good barfight to remind you why you're in love your girlfriend."

Then again, I could have been wrong.


	16. You Never Forget Your First

_Love in an elevator_  
_Livin' it up when I'm goin' down_  
_Love in an elevator_  
_Livin' it up 'til I hit the ground_

Aerosmith- "Love in an Elevator"

 

**Chapter 15 – You Never Forget Your First**

We walked into the CIC as cautiously as possible, in hopes of making it to the elevator without...

" _Riza!_ "

...drawing attention to ourselves.

I whirled around to see what had happened, and found that Garrus had lost his balance and fallen on his ass right inside the airlock. I had thought most of the foam and water had run off while we were running from the Talons' territory, but apparently, I'd been wrong. There was a small, fluffy pool of it underneath the back of his knees, so it didn't take long to figure out what had caused him to fall.

Even so, I couldn't resist giving him a hard time. Neglecting to do so would have been beneath me.

"You _ben'jee_. I know you had a few drinks, but I didn't realize you were falling-down _drunk_. You can't hold your liquor for shit."

He glared at me from his prone position, and said nothing. Very sarcastically.

I chuckled, and put out my right hand to help him up. Sighing, he grasped it with his left, and pulled.

Unfortunately, I hadn't taken into account what the pool of slippery stuff would do to my own equilibrium, and rather than heaving him up from the floor, I wound up sprawled on top of him. Plus, my forehead had smacked into his chin. I was _so_ going to have a bruise there in the morning. He might have one, too, come to think of it, but at the time, I was too busy listening to footsteps coming hurriedly in our direction to give it much thought.

"Commander, are you all ri—oh," Kelly's pleasant voice trailed off as she took in the picture in front of her, her expression somewhere between confusion and mischief.

_So much for not drawing attention to ourselves._

Before I could say anything, my turian companion spoke up from underneath me. "I promise you, this isn't what it looks like."

"Yet," I added under my breath, with a snort.

"Not helping," he hissed in my ear as he tried to struggle up off the floor. I rolled off of him to do the same, and found a slim, pale hand being proffered to me by my yeoman. I looked at her, then her hand, then over at Garrus, and back again. I accepted her offer of help, and hauled myself up off the deck. I felt Garrus finally find his feet next to me, and I watched as Kelly looked us both over. I can only imagine what we looked like: ripped clothing, faces bruised and streaked with blue, covered in fire-extinguishing foam. She opened her mouth to say something, but as much as I was growing to like Kelly, I really wasn't in the mood to answer any questions.

Which was probably good, as Joker hobbled up behind her on his crutches right about then; and if the look on his face was any indication, he found the situation to be too hilarious to ignore.

I was _really_ getting tired of deflecting everyone's opinions about my personal life. I love a good jab at someone's expense (even my own), but this was getting ridiculous. I quickly took two steps forward so that I was practically toe to toe with them both. I wanted to make it crystal clear that I meant business when I finally spoke.

" _ **Not**_ a word. From either of you. Not a single, _fucking_ word. Are we clear?"

Joker gave me his usual wise-ass grin, and tried to retort, and it was a testament to her perceptiveness that Chambers was able to reach back and cover his mouth with her hand without even looking over her shoulder.

It wasn't until much, much later that I realized, in order to pull that off, she had to have more than a cursory knowledge of his physicality. The implications of that were both funny and frightening, if only for the reason that my immediate thought was that EDI's education on "boundaries" had probably been twisted out of proportion. Not to mention her definition of "doctor/patient privilege."

The look on my face must have been extremely unnerving, though, as Kelly (for once) didn't say anything. She simply nodded, and stepped back.

Satisfied that I'd gotten my point across, I all but stormed toward the elevator, trusting that Garrus would follow me, and he did. Neither of us said anything until we were inside the lift, when we both reached for the control panel at the same time. His foretalon was poised over the button for the crew deck, mine over the one for my cabin.

We stopped, staring at each other for a moment, before he cleared his throat. "I guess this is goodnight, then, Shepard."

"I don't think so."

"Teandra, we've been over this. I'm not going to take advantage of you when you've been drinking."

"One, that's really getting old..."

"Old? You do realize we've been at this less than a day?"

"...and two, I meant our conversation got interrupted. We need to finish it."

He'd backed away from me until his back was against the far side of the elevator, and while I was a little tired of his chivalrous behavior (but only a little), I knew pushing him this early in our attempt to... take things to the next level might not end well. He didn't like being cornered any more than I did. So, I backed up, too, so he could have a little breathing room.

He sighed, face contorting in pain at my words. "Teandra, I really don't want to talk about this anymore tonight."

"You might not want to, but I think you _need_ to."

"No, I don't-"

"Fine, then _I_ need you to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Because you still haven't told me who was on your team." I know it was underhanded, but goddamn it, you can't just drop the bomb on a person that someone she knows is dead, and not identify the deceased. It's cruel, and while he might not have realized it, that's exactly what he was being.

He swore under his breath, so softly I couldn't catch which word he'd used, but I could fill in the blanks. Besides, I didn't need the word itself to get the message.

"Do we have to do this in the elevator?"

"No, but I'd rather not go to the forward batteries, either. I have no doubt that Joker will definitely be waiting for us to wind up there."

"You think he's above spying on you in your own quarters?" he asked incredulously, body language relaxing somewhat.

"Not a chance. That's why I ask EDI to scramble the signal every night."

He snorted, but still looked wary. I'm not sure why I said what I said next, but it sure as hell worked. "You _do_ remember that I have a private shower, right?"

For once, my intentions had been mostly innocent. He just looked so beaten and exhausted, and after the day we'd had, I figured he'd want to have a least a little more time away from the normal, everyday routine. That included a modicum of privacy that wasn't provided by having to do calibrations to the main guns for once.

From the heated look I got, though, I don't think that innocence translated, which explained his reluctance to come upstairs perfectly. If his thoughts were already treading down that path, then I could see him not wanting to put his willpower to the test a third time. I know that I wouldn't want to, if the situation were reversed. I rushed to reassure him.

"Garrus… I'm free and clear, but I'm also fully alright with enforcing your rules, okay? I want to find out who I lost, and I want some more time with you tonight. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling lonely in more ways than physical," I stopped, trying to put what I was feeling into words, to make sure my intent came through a little more clearly, "I'm not forcing the issue, but I'm _asking_ you to come upstairs for a little while. For the night, even, if you want; but no rule breaking, I promise, no matter what."

He looked at me for a minute, arms still crossed and back braced against the wall, before finally looking down at himself and saying resignedly, "I'm going to need clothes."

This drew a small laugh from me. "Easily rectified now," and pushed the button for the crew deck. "I'm more willing to let you go, now that I know you're coming back."

This drew a strained chuckle as he stepped off the elevator a minute or so later, and I knew the idea crossed his mind _not_ to return, as he was probably over-thinking the situation from five different directions. That's how his mind always tended to work, especially when it came to matters of personal honor. Maybe it was a turian trait, or just an attribute unique to him, but either way I wasn't going to deride his morals with another seduction attempt.

The truth of the matter was quite simple: Garrus was the only man I'd ever actually 'slept' with. Sex was one thing, but sleeping in the same bed with a man was something completely different. One factor I had noticed in the now two occasions when it had happened was that I hadn't had a single nightmare on those evenings; not one. Very rarely did that happen, if at all, and I'd almost become resigned to a sleep schedule that was made up of catnaps and the occasional stim.

It had to be his presence, just like that night on the SR1, and with this newest hurdle being addressed, I found it very hard to resist the allure of having my 'dreamcatcher' nearby. The way being in his arms made me feel was a plus, too. Sometimes, if only for a minute, I felt like one of those girls from those movies. It didn't last beyond the next smart-ass remark, but still...

After the things we'd spoken of and done that evening, I had a sneaking suspicion we both might need that comfort. It might have been fun to work as such a cohesive team, but as the adrenaline wore off it truly occurred to me that while I had known of the social implications of our relationship, I'd never really _known_ the implications to him. Not to mention my own brush with falling into memory. I needed him in a much less sensual capacity at the moment, and had a feeling after all the crap we'd been over with his family, he might want the same.

It didn't matter what we thought of each other, did it? In some circles, he'd always be seen as a deviant, and me nothing more than a sex-toy. There wasn't a damn thing we could do to change it, either, that could be any more convincing than the things we'd already done. So then the dilemma became this: where did we balance personal need and tact? And what happened if the Hierarchy chose to discredit me when the time came to address them, simply as a result of such a pairing? Was I willing to risk the galaxy to save our relationship, assuming it might one day come to that?

It wasn't a decision to be made that night, or even over several nights, but it _was_ something we'd need to discuss sometime. And all my stupid attempts at pushing him away aside, part of me _wanted_ this to be everything it seemed to be. I just knew better than to get my hopes up.

Besides, we'd have a hard enough time finding moments to discuss it, between saving the galaxy and babysitting a crew of teenagers.

My thoughts were interrupted by Garrus' return, a small and almost inconspicuous bundle of clothes in hand, commenting, "If we're going to make a habit out of this, we should consider keeping spares up there." He was pointedly _not_ looking at me as he said it, a childish lilt to his voice that made me want to laugh. But I stifled it until the elevator closed and the button for my cabin pushed. Then, once we were safely on our way up, I couldn't help it.

"What, exactly, is so funny?" he asked, finally meeting my eyes before rolling his own in exasperation.

" _You_. That's what," I fired back, "I _told_ you that you don't _have_ to come up, didn't I? It's not like I'd put it on a performance report or something."

Again not meeting my gaze, he responded with, "You bribed me with a shower. It worked. Though I probably should point out that bribery is technically a crime..."

"Nu-huh. You're not with C-Sec anymore, so I'm not bribing an officer; I'm bribing my _friend_."

The elevator arrived at the top deck at that point, and I stepped out, peeling my omnitool off and tossing it onto my desk as I passed. It was going to have to be cleaned, and I motioned without looking for him to do the same as I moved down the stairs.

"Toss yours on there, too, and I'll take care of that mess while you shower. You've always been faster than I am at all that personal hygiene stuff, anyway." I approached my closet, making sure I didn't look back at the staircase, his lack of footsteps telling me he was still standing in the doorway. His nervousness was silly, considering the number of evenings he'd spent in my room already, but understandable on some level, as well.

There was an intimacy associated with my room that the forward batteries just couldn't compete with. We'd shared many a chess match, more than one simulstim, and countless conversations in this room, not to mention our dance. There was even one time that he'd caught me coming out of the shower, fortunately well covered by the towel I wore, but even on that occasion he'd seemed less embarrassed than he did now. Then, he'd cracked a joke about how inconvenient wet hair must be. I had laughed, grabbed my clothes, and exited the bathroom a second time much more decently attired.

Tonight? If turians could blush, I would probably have felt it even with my back turned. From across the room.

So I kept up a running monologue, trying to buy him time to set himself at ease as I rummaged through my clothes.

"Now, I know I left that shirt in here somewhere. Did I forget to drop it in the clothes chute again?" My head was literally inside the closet by then, which wasn't for show, as I really had no idea where that particular shirt had gone. I moved aside a couple more jumbled articles, finally finding the t-shirt I was looking for and my sleep shorts, and other after-shower necessities. Then, clothes in hand, I got ready to turn back and deal with his insecurity. If need be, I'd come up with some nonsense excuse to let him escape without him worrying about hurting my feelings.

Once I _did_ turn, though, it only took me two milliseconds to realize that maybe I was starting to make a habit out of reading him wrong.

He was looking at me, face somewhere between lust and embarrassment. The expression was so different from his normal one, I found myself wondering what he was thinking, and knew he was probably reconsidering his rules really, _really_ hard at that moment. With any other man, I'd have already been up there, working to help encourage that line of thought.

But not with him. Never again with him. Well, at least, not until I was a little more familiar with where his comfort lines blurred.

That didn't keep me from asking, though.

"What is going through that devious little mind of yours, Garrus?" I asked, smiling in turn. He started a little, but not as much as I would have expected, almost as if he were hoping I would ask such a question. Smug bastard.

"You probably don't want to know, considering I have _no_ intention of acting on it. But I never said thoughts weren't allowed, did I?"

I smiled a little wider at gaining even that small admission, but rushed to put his mind at ease. "I told you, I don't plan on anything happening tonight. I'll stick to my word, even if _you_ don't. I have to prove I'm just as strong at resisting _you_ , don't I?"

The challenge was _probably_ not the best way to keep things on the right track, but _damn_ if there wasn't almost an electrical current of anticipation in the room at that moment. It crackled along my skin deliciously, and was tempting in _so_ many ways. But as Garrus had said earlier, no _way_ was I messing up our friendship for sex. Not happening. And to push my own agenda when he made it clear he wasn't willing to reciprocate, after his requests from this morning? It would have been nothing but purely disrespectful. It would have said that his wants and needs meant nothing to me, and nothing could be farther from the truth.

I could be an adult about this situation until the morning. We both would be. But then, with the alcohol gone? All bets were off.

"You really want to know?" He set the bundle of clothes down on the desk as he spoke, curiosity and confidence painting his voice. It wasn't until that moment, in spite of all else, that it occurred to me that _both_ our clothes, because of the flame retardant, were clinging to everything. This didn't do much for my partner upstairs, because of the sheer bulk of turian fashion. But in my case...

 _Well, that certainly explains the look._ It took all my willpower not to cover myself self-consciously, then I had to snort at my own embarrassment.

_Why is it that every guy I've ever been with, I'm in total fucking control of myself, but with him, I start blushing and bumbling like some novice?_

What made it worse, honestly, was the fact that he seemed completely calm and collected while _I_ was probably on the edge of making an idiot out of myself all over again.

"I asked, didn't I?" I managed to keep all but the slightest tremble out of my voice. Not that he wouldn't hear it _anyway_ , but I was still kind of proud of myself.

Maybe that's why he seemed to be so damn imperturbable right now. Putting the situation in his hands seemed to give him an air of confidence that stole my breath, and made the game I'd started off playing much more intense than I had planned.

"I was actually wondering if we _really_ needed to take turns for that shower?"

Now it was my turn to start, as I hadn't actually thought he would answer, and certainly wasn't expecting _that_ response. There was something about him, in these situations, which kept me off balance; left me guessing about his next thoughts and moves.

 _Damn him._ _He's going to push me to see if I'll keep my word, isn't he? Damn that turian..._

The strangest part was, on some level, I found the challenge and the change in his personality appealing. But familiarity was what I needed, and there was so much newness in my life where he was concerned that I was afraid to run with that last emotion, falling back into our old standby: Sarcasm.

"You get to break your rules, but I don't? Oh, yes, that is absolutely fair, right there."

"I _did_ say that I wasn't going to act, didn't I? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did."

"Is this payback for last night?"

"Oh, not _even_ close," there was a glint to his eyes at that, making me wonder what exactly he was planning in that regard. I shoved that away, though, in favor of answering.

"You know what, screw this. We both said no sex, and we're both mature adults."

"And you're curious..." he smirked, crossing his arms.

I colored again, this time at the image of him naked under the water, surrounded by steam, trails of water working their way down his body…

I almost cursed when I realized what he'd done, and what my response had been. I don't _blush_ , dammit. He was still waiting for me to respond, though, and I met his gaze as I finally answered.

"Maybe a little."

"I'd say that makes two of us," he stated in turn, though he seemed much less daunted by the idea.

I let out a breath at his agreement with my statement, somewhat more at ease because of this admission, though I couldn't tell you why. I charged on.

"So, should we set new ground rules, or..."

He tilted his head, considering, "If you're serious, then yes. New rules would probably be a good idea, if we still intend to take this slow and give ourselves time to adjust."

"Well, this was _your_ idea... are we talking hands off, or...?"

"I think that would make showering in that confined space rather hard."

I rolled my eyes. "You and those damn metaphors."

"I can leave if you want," he gestured towards the door with a flourish, but made no move to make good on his threat.

And that damnable smirk was still on his face. Finally, I had to ask, "What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, nothing. Just curious." His amused expression became more pronounced, if that were possible, until finally I shot back a response.

"About _what_?"

"If that type of leather shrinks as quickly as every other type I've been exposed to," was his flippant answer.

"What are you... _oh, fuck me_."

He flared his mandibles with pure glee as comprehension hit me, commenting, "Not tonight, I'm afraid."

I glared at him, looking down a moment later at what I hadn't, until then, realized was an outfit becoming increasingly snug. I reached up under my arm to pull at the side zipper, to no avail, and resisted the urge to stomp my foot in irritation at my own inability to focus.

"Would you like some help?" Came Garrus' sardonic voice as he moved down the steps. I refused to look up, still pulling at the dress in various places to figure out where the weakest point was. Maybe if I could gain a little give, I'd have a shot at escaping the dress with it unscathed.

I backed away slightly, spitting an emphatic, "NO," in his direction, scrambling to try and come up with _something_ as my hands continued to tug ineffectually.

"You're being childish."

"Am not," I said, but the words came out as a little girl's pout, much to my further irritation. "Besides, it has a zipper, Garrus. I'll be..."

I yanked on the metal contraption harder than before, this time making the connection that the foam was gumming up the works. " _Goddamn it..."_ I muttered.

He snorted. "You were saying?" I finally looked up, glaring at the entirely too amused turian a couple of steps away from me.

"I was saying, 'you're an asshole.' And that I have this under control." I reached to my right thigh, pulling my switchblade out of its holster and moving to flick out the blade.

"Um, no. We are having none of that, Shepard."

"Why not?"

"You try and cut yourself out of it from that angle, and you'll bleed out before I can even get Chakwas on the comm. The weakest point is either down the front or across the waist. Not good choices."

"I think you're being a little melodramatic, don't you?" I knew on some level he was right, but that didn't stop me from protesting. I had so few nice sets of civvies as it was; ruining the dress further just seemed like such a horrible waste. So if there was anything I could do to minimize the damage, I planned on it.

"Considering the day we've had, do you really want to push your luck?"

I groaned. Kasumi was going to kill me for this.

"Fine then. What do you propose we do?" I hadn't meant to pull out a movie quote, and the fact that I'd done it without wanting to was a surefire indicator of my state of mind. Not that Garrus bothered to actually comment on it; he didn't have to.

Instead, he raised an eye ridge, then reached down into his own boot, removing _his_ knife. I squeaked as I realized his plan.

" _You_ wanted to give _me_ shit for my idea?" I asked as he moved forward, "What in the _hell_ are you planning to do with that?"

"Teandra, I strongly suggest you don't move, or this might hurt," there was a predator's note to his gaze, and I froze, waiting on him to approach.

 _How do I get_ into _these situations?_ I closed my eyes, standing stock still as I waited on the inevitable nick that would have to come from the use of such an oversized tool. _**How?**_

That thought barely had time to surface before I fell a small pull of fabric, an expert cut along the front of the dress. This was closely followed by another, much more insistent pull of fabric as my bra snapped in two. My eyes snapped open to look down at him, where he was kneeling to finish the bottom of the dress, but he looked back up at my undignified yelp.

"Hey!" I yelled as his eyes latched onto things they shouldn't have, moving to cover up body parts that were much too close to him for my comfort. I was pretty sure that breasts weren't a sex object to turians, but that sure as hell didn't change the fact that they were to _me._

"What... _oh_." He paused, searching for the right response, then settled on an unapologetic, "Oops?" Without another word, he looked back down, finishing his work and stepping away. Seemingly satisfied, he laid the knife on the coffee table nonchalantly.

 _Damn it,_ _**where** _ _is my flustered Garrus? I could really use him right about now._

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" My accusation seemed to only make him even more smug.

"Actually, no. I _do_ wish I'd thought of it, though."

"This is more of that payback, isn't it?" I huffed.

"This is only a _fraction_ of what you're going to get for that little attack."

"I _so_ hate you."

"Not yet, you don't, since those pants are in even worse shape than your tunic." He backed away a little further, giving me a small amount of space to collect myself.

"I'll manage." Still holding the ragged edges of the dress together, I finally thought ' _fuck it,'_ dropping the ends as I looked down to examine the leather bottoms I'd managed to wear _one_ _time_ before destroying. Sighing, I pulled off my Cannon, still in its side holster, and the empty sheath that had housed my knife, and tossed them on the coffee table with the rest of our weapons.

"I'm _so_ glad you find this so bloody amusing..." I stated, reaching down to unlace my combat boots. In retrospect, it was a good damn thing I'd chosen them instead of something more girly, or that bar fight could have turned nasty. I _can_ kick ass in high heels, just not as gracefully. At least, not without regular practice.

"You going to take the top off?" His voice was mischievous in spite of the obvious curiosity, which irritated me even _more_ than I already was.

"You going to take off yours?" I shot back, still not looking up. I finished the second set of laces, turning back to the closet to kick them off in front of it. I reached for the zipper of those pants halfheartedly, not expecting it to work, only to find (much to my relief) that the tunic had kept it mostly clear. It unzipped without a hitch, thank the Goddess, and I stood back up, more nervous than I should have been about taking that final step towards nakedness.

Looking back up, though, caused me to blush all over again. Thank god turian men stayed plated, or I'd have probably buried myself under the covers. Maybe permanently.

I'd seen him shirtless before, if never completely nude, but it still shouldn't have affected as strongly as it did. There was something about seeing him in this way that was just damn _sexy,_ and that realization caught me completely off guard. When I'd first started contemplating this whole crazy idea, I had been mildly worried that in spite of my attraction to the man and his personality, I would have to mentally overcome the differences in anatomy between him and my past lovers. For the third time that day, though, I was going to have to admit my own foolishness.

My eyes wandered freely over him, unchecked by my rational brain as I took in varying shades of silver and gray plates, framed by brown skin that my fingertips remembered to be soft and pliable... weaknesses among all that strength. It was under those same plates that you could see well-defined muscles, most assuredly a combination of our continual sparring and the lifestyle we both led. Before, my glimpses of him under all the clothing had been in situations where averted eyes were a must, either due to embarrassment or necessity. Now, however, with nothing but time on our hands, it took me almost a minute of intense study of his lines and plates to realize exactly what I was doing; namely, staring like a lovestuck teenager.

With a start, my eyes jumped back up his torso to meet his, gaining me the comment of, "Your turn." He laughed, not waiting for me to comply or respond, turning away from my wide-eyed gaze towards the shower. As if all that weren't bad enough, he felt like adding, "and just so you know, I'm sensing a pattern here with your choice in undergarments."

I glanced down, noticing that my undies were peeking out of the top and the unzipped sides of the pants.

 _Of_ course _they'd have to be silver, just like_ Palazar. _Why_ _ **not**_ _add to his little bundle of fun..._

I pulled the leather off in a huff, barely managing to peel it over my hips, before tossing it towards the trash bin; I'd barely fit in them the _first_ time. Now? Well, I'd learned my lesson.

I heard the shower kick on through the closed door, and took another second to compose myself before even _thinking_ about entering the bathroom.

"Get it together, lady," I muttered to myself, "you're big girl, right? You've manipulated your way through hundreds of men. You can make it through one little shower."

 _Damn_ if I thought I could, though.

"Treat it like a mission, remember. You can do this. You're only getting into a warm shower with a naked man you've had the hots for for months, right?"

Okay, maybe not thinking clearly. Especially the part of me that was railing I'd never have made it this far without the alcohol in my system. That the next time this happened, if I were sober, things might not go so smoothly; that this might be the only shot at proving my trust for him before everything fell apart.

_Fuck that. I can do this._

I squared my shoulders, threw my head up, and marched into the bathroom, determined to prove I was a strong as I believed.

* * *

#####

* * *

The time between when I left her, in the tattered remnants of that leather outfit, and the time she entered the bathroom felt like an eternity, as my nerves tried to convince me that a dominance display was not the way to keep this night, or our hormones, in check. I had damn near broken into a panicked run twice, but had managed to both hold my ground and appear confident. A first around Teandra, that was for sure.

As long as I was in control, there was nothing she could actually _physically_ do to me that could make us violate our promises. Self-control is a _requirement_ for mating in turian lifestyle, so I was quite good at keeping things under plating; at least, I always had been with everyone but her. My escape to the shower was a chance to calm down, because watching devour me with her eyes had been near to breaking my resolve. _Again._

I worried, for a moment, if she'd even follow me, only to have my fears assuaged as I heard the door open. She let out a huge breath, as if she'd just outrun a _boska_ , and stepped up to me under the water with an air of pride.

"You know this is a first for me, right? Showering with someone else, in private," she said, eyes taking in the spray of water, the shelves that housed various bric-a-brac, the fogged-over mirror above the sink, anything but actually looking _at_ me. I had no such qualms.

Suffice it to say that my 'research' of the prior night had left me curious, but more so from lack of watching. It had only taken one such vid of a turian-human couple, with a woman who was obviously a much better actress than lover, to see it wasn't nearly what I needed as a reference. Several more vids with increasingly bizarre titles left me just as skeptical, and I'd decided that I would rather wait until I knew where Teandra and I stood before subjecting myself to any more 'lessons' I might never need to use. Too bad I hadn't been paying attention, or I could have used them against her now.

I'd seen Shepard damn near naked before, but never completely unclothed. The sight was strange, but not unattractively so, and I allowed my eyes to linger much as her own had earlier as she moved under the water, turning her face up into the mist. She looked, if only for a moment, the way she had when we first hit Pragia. I allowed myself to follow the soft curves and lines of her body, trying to match them up more fully with the ideas I'd had of the image long before any possibility of this ever being reality. The picture was different, but that didn't keep it from turning me on all over again.

"Advantage number one to showering with a turian: Never have to worry about the water being too cold," she stated, eyes closing as her body began to physically relax as a result of the heat, back still turned to me. Her shoulders untensed, and I reached up, unable to help myself from tentatively tracing a talon down her back as the water continued to bounce off of her, creating rivulets that drew my eyes down her body once again.

She gasped, commenting without turning, "If you want me to _not_ molest you, you probably should _not_ do _**that**_."

Watching the way she responded to such a simple move, her body writhing at the smallest touch, I'd be lying if I didn't admit in the back of my head thoughts were... surfacing. It was my own self-imposed rule, after all; there was really nothing other than my own inhibitions keeping me from pinning her to the wall, of having my way with her; hearing her voice in my ear, calling my name…

Then again, actually, there _was_. My own sense of honor, for one. And for another, whether intentionally or not, she had challenged me. Much like our sniper battles, I wasn't letting her win quite so easily. Instead, I would push her until that control _she_ carried shattered into little tiny pieces.

But with subtlety. After all, I do have class. And turning this in to a little game could be both fun _and_ informative.

"Okay," I said, "point taken. Is there anywhere you _aren't_ so sensitive? Obviously your back," I traced talons innocently across the expanse of it once again, "and your sides are off limits." I trailed them carefully down towards her hips, remembering her almost painful sensitivity there, which would be more distraction than I wanted her to have at that point. "Tell me where else..." I continued to let my hands move downward lightly, and wondered at the softness of the next area I found.

_Like her... breasts... that's the word. When I woke up that morning..._

She finally did turn, eyes full of longing, as she said, "Maybe I could _show_ you."

I swallowed, staring at her. "I'm almost _positive_ that would be breaking the no foreplay rule..."

Her body was flushed all over again, and I was pretty sure the water temperature was only partly to blame, as she replied, "Well, I figure it's kind of like dieting. When you screw up, you admit you screwed up, forgive yourself, and start over the next day."

"And that has what to do with the current situation?" I asked carefully. I admit it: Sometimes, metaphors, human or otherwise, confused me, and in this context, 'straight-forward' was better than dropping hints. Prevented committing an inadvertent _faux pas_. And personal injury.

"By your own admission, we've violated your rules already," she stated, once again looking me up and down, "Since we've already messed up, by the formula I just outlined we could continue to... mess up, and then start over again tomorrow."

I hesitated. "How badly are we talking, here?"

"Nothing to violate your no sex rule, if that's what you mean. But... toeing the line." She reached a hand up to trace down my chest, working her nails lightly between two plates as she did so. With a sigh, I returned the favor, mirroring her movements and allowing one taloned hand to trace a light line between her breasts. This drew a contented sigh from her in turn, eyes closing for a second as she allowed herself to be enveloped in the sensation. The sight brought ideas to the surface all over again, and I moved to change the subject, to bring us back down a notch from the brink of abandon.

"For someone who spends so much time following the rules, you sure do _talk_ about breaking them quite a bit," I commented, heat still spreading through me in spite of the already warm and moist air, and my attempts at distraction. Where she was playing wasn't necessarily erogenous, but the cautiousness of her explorations gave it a fire that it otherwise would not have carried; she was usually so confident, seeing her show this much uncertainty and still forge onward made her movements so much more wonderful. Her fingers stopped their motion, though, as I reached her stomach, feeling the muscles tense and contract underneath my hand as I passed by her belly button.

 _At least I_ know _what a belly button is. Only time I'll bless my detectives knowledge of asari._

"Did I do something wrong?" I wasn't worried I had actually made a mistake, due her lust-filled expression, but wanted to establish a pattern of communication.

"Not really," she replied, somewhat strained, "but you found another sensitive spot." She reached down, grabbing my hand in both of her own, moving it in time with her words.

"You'll find I'm pretty much easily stimulated all over, Garrus. But there are some places that are worse than others. Some you've become aware of, like _here_ ," she brought my hand up to trace down the side of her neck, the movement of her head to the side showing me her racing pulse, "but there are others you don't, like _here."_ This time, she moved her hands downward with mine still in tow, ending up over those little bumps that were at the front of her breasts.

" _Those_ are sensitive?" It seemed hard to believe, given how they looked. I lightly brushed a talon across where she'd placed my hand, to see for myself just _how_ appealing she found the sensation.

I watched her face as her eyes flew backwards, face bunching as her breath quickened, a sharp grip from her hands causing me to stop moving.

"I take _that_ as a yes," I chuckled, somewhat in awe of the strange reaction, and more than a little turned on by the unadulterated eroticism of her expression. She brought her head back down, cerulean eyes piercing me with need from her impossibly wide stare. Her breathing was still hitched, but only slightly, so I asked the question I was pretty sure we both wanted me to.

"Will you show me more?" I whispered, moving half a step closer as I did so. Without hesitation, she moved my hand again, bringing one to rest on a hip before reaching for my other hand, mirroring her movements on the other side.

I paused. "But you said those were ticklish..."

She raised an eyebrow, but it was only a shadow of her normal sardonic expression. "They are," she said simply, "but a little clue? Pretty much anything _that_ responsive to touch is _also_ going to be fun when in the bedroom."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You next..." she said, hands coming to rest on my own, waiting on me to move. I watched her, inhaling the scent of ylang-ylang that came off of her in waves as the water poured over her, matting her normally bright hair into an almost brownish-auburn mass. It looked like it did after a particularly challenging spar; only this time, should I choose, I was free to run my hands through it unchecked. This brought forth an almost aching desire to learn more about what affected her, what would drive her over the edge when we finally did allow this to run its course.

Call it what you will, but on some level, I knew I would cherish the day the iron-clad Commander Shepard begged me for her release. To gain that ability, I would have to learn more from her first; information I hungered for almost as surely as the body of the woman in front of me.

I shook my head, voice coming out a husky whisper as I said, "I think I'd rather you keep teaching, little Spectre. You already looked into this, and if your little performance last night is even a small amount of your research, then there isn't much more I can show you. _You_ , however, are still _quite_ the mystery to me."

She tilted her head, contemplating, then took a single step closer. Hands still comfortably settled over my own, she moved them back to position over that same soft area from before, forcing me to actually palm them this time. I squeezed lightly, wondering at the feel of her skin, so different from any turian woman's rough and unforgiving exterior. Again, I fought the shifting of plates, her unchecked openness feeding my own craving to meld with her, in spite of my own rules.

"Not as sensitive," she stated as she removed her own hands, "at least at the moment, but not to be ignored either..." She trailed off as I tentatively continued to explore, running my talons lightly along the underside of their roundness. This caused her to jump, and I raised an eye ridge.

"Not sensitive, huh?"

"Never have been before," she said almost lazily, and took another small step, encouraged by my grip on her backside. The motion brought us chest to chest, and I could almost taste her yearning in the air as she came flush with me, looking up from below the spray. She reached up, lightly tracing the pads of her fingers across plating and hide alike with a sensuous and inquisitive air, watching me all the while for whatever reactions I would give. Unlike the night before, though, I didn't bother to try to hide my facial expressions, interested in how closely she was studying me. I reveled in the somewhat muted feel of her skin against mine, for the first time in my life wishing that I truly _were_ from a species that would allow us to mold more completely with each other, let me experience the sweetness of her more fully.

 _She_ didn't seem to mind the hard plates that separated us, though, as her hands explored in a way that implied she wanted to touch every single one. Her gaze moved downward, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the mixed sensation of warm water and cool hands combined with the scent of ylang-ylang that pervaded this room more strongly than any other we'd been in together.

"You're so beautiful, Garrus." Her voice was hushed, and I opened my eyes as she spoke, meeting her gaze as she looked back up deliberately from where her hands lay. She'd been tracing the perimeter of a scar I'd carried since I was first in the military, which, to someone else, would make her declaration to be somewhat incongruous; especially since I knew some of her own scars bothered her a great deal. In this case, though, I knew she wasn't just giving me empty compliments.

I stared at her, taken aback more by that simple phrase than anything else we had done or said up until that point. It was such an overly-romantic observation to come from Teandra, the room felt much smaller than it had been a moment before as I fought to remember to breathe, my vision unable to focus on anything other than her.

"You make it very, very hard for me to be an honorable man behind closed doors," I purred into her ear, nuzzling her cheek with my own as I did so.

"Then don't _be_ an honorable man," she said back, but there was none of the teasing lilt to it this time.

I pulled away to look at her. "Little Spectre, we agreed on this." I started to step back, only to have her hands on my hips stop me.

"I'm not talking about breaking any rules," she said softly, hands trailing down my waist. Any other time, I would have called it a distraction technique; but with her so close I could sense that it was more of a _need_ to have her hands on me at that point in time. She continued, eyes dropping in embarrassment, "However, I will not, I repeat, _**will not**_ leave you... wanting, for lack of a better term, two days in a row, Garrus. It makes _me_ feel like I'm taking advantage of _your_ honorable nature."

That internal battle lasted only seconds, fueled by the last few minutes (or was it hours?) with her. "Teandra... after all this, the offer is _more_ than appealing. But I'm not seeing how that would be possible... I won't let us screw this up now."

"You didn't watch much of that porn, did you?" She seemed to gain a measure of confidence at my hesitation, like she knew something I didn't.

"I got distracted by... other things." I was hedging, afraid that if I told her the vids I'd found were less than appealing, she might take it the wrong way.

"Is that so?" One hand left my hip to trace lower, quickly finding the seam in my plating that I had no idea she was even aware existed. And maybe she didn't. It could be purely...

That thought stopped dead as she ran the back of a fingernail along it, tracing upwards until she came back to my waist. My entire body jerked, and with my hands still on her hips, the movement brought us back almost flush with one another.

Nope. Not innocent in the _slightest._ I was almost certain of it.

* * *

#####

* * *

Remember all those innocent, good intentions I mentioned when I was in the elevator? My hand on a stack of ammo catalogues, I meant every single word.

It's funny where good intentions can lead you.

In my defense, he started it. Okay, really _I_ started it, by challenging him, but it wasn't intentional. He could have been the bigger person, and ignored it.

Too late for that, though. And in my personal opinion, we were still staying well within his currently established boundaries.

"What sort of porn were you watching that you got distracted from viewing it?" I asked coyly, pretty sure I knew the answer. After all, most people ended up 'distracted' while watching those kinds of vids, didn't they? That was usually the point.

He didn't answer me, and I was pretty sure it was because he was trying desperately to hold on to what was left of his control. Too bad for him that, even in this situation, I was not above stooping to dirty pool to win. As long as he didn't hate me later, I'd be fine.

He seemed to sense where I was headed, though, and reached down to grab my hands forcefully before I could move. I huffed, sensing the inevitable "We've taken this too far already…" but he silenced me with a look before I could actually _say_ anything to rebut that argument.

"Don't worry. It's just that while I'm hesitant to leave you… _wanting_ either," he ran a talon along the inside of my hand, extending the motion up across my wrist this time, and eliciting much the same reaction he'd gotten from me that morning, "I think we should finish that conversation on ground rules before we take this any further."

I stared at him, eyebrow raised as I asked in awed disbelief, "You're serious? You're interrupting us _now_ for that?"

"Yes." Pure eroticism painted his voice, obvious and overwhelming, but I could tell he was completely serious. He wasn't budging until he knew my intentions, and could decide for himself if they crossed the line.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were doing this to torture me."

"Perhaps," but the glint in his eyes said otherwise. He was keeping us grounded before we lost ourselves in this moment; took this thing to a level we weren't ready to mount yet.

The water continued to beat against my skin, nothing compared to the warmth of his body against mine, and it occurred to me that once again I just _didn't_ know how to break him, or if I even _wanted_ to. Instinct always dictated these things, allowing me to guide and manipulate my partner of choice into whatever scenario I wanted. But this wasn't like that anymore; I just wanted to show _him_ how he affected me. To experience an outlet for that unbearable, soul-rending heat our touch brought one another, that searing fire that so easily disarmed both of our warrior shells.

With that being the case, maybe I should change things up a bit and try it _his_ way. So I took a breath, temporarily abandoned all my ingrained responses to these situations, and explained myself to him.

"What I'm talking about isn't really anything more than… a tension release. Let's call it that."

"You're going to have to be more specific," his talon was still stroking along my wrist, reading my face as he did so, giving a lighter or firmer touch as he deciphered my expressions. It sent a jolt of fire through me, like an electrical charge, and I found it hard to breathe again as I struggled to answer him.

"It would be easier if you would let me show you." With tentative hands, I moved towards the spot that had drawn such a wonderful reaction from him before, unimpeded by his own this time in spite of the fact that he wasn't letting me go, or stopping his attentions to my forearms.

I knew he'd never even think about letting me do what I actually _wanted_ to do at that moment; would consider it a violation of his rules. But perhaps, just perhaps, he'd allow me this.

I brought my left hand upward as the other moved down, grasping the back of his neck for leverage as I moved forwards. I once again took his scarred mandible to mouth, using a light suction as I did so. It had damn near broken his resolve the night before, that had been beyond obvious, and I was hoping it would have the same reaction now. He moaned, the sound conveying all the longing and need I was feeling at that moment as well, and I once again allowed nails to rake below, feeling plating part under my hand without hesitation.

"Teandra…" his voice was strained, his calm finally breaking as I grasped him, exploring with curious fingers. "Show me… with _you_ …" another gasp, "I want..."

Coherency, while absent, was unneeded, and I removed my fingers long enough to guide him to where he asked. "Here…"

Lightly, I moved his hand, gasping softly as I felt rough skin and soft palms begin their own wandering. I helped him move slowly, showing him what I needed, what would bring me to release. He caught on almost instantly, just another example of our ability to communicate without words.

_Like this?_

My moans, closely followed by the return of my hand to his length, were the only response he would ever require.

Time became a blur of warmth and fire and motion and sound, as explorations became more sure and movements more insistent. We clutched at one another wildly, experiencing a moment of abandon, savoring this brief time of surrender that for once we knew wouldn't be followed by guilt. We fed of each others passion, me clinging violently to his neck as I felt myself approach the brink, increasing my grip and pace on him in response to his gentle yet firm touch.

"Garrus... I can't..."

"Then don't..." his face, only inches from mine, fell away as my orgasm gripped me, body spasming, legs clenching around his hand in an attempt to stop him from continuing as he held me close; his own ragged breathing was heavy in my ears as we braced against one another, afraid to move lest we fall.

"Did you...?" I whispered.

He laughed quietly, still panting, "Most definitely. By the Spirits, your _face..."_

As if the recollection were enough to weaken him once again, he stumbled, catching us both with a hand against the wall. A taloned hand accidentally brushed the off button for the showerhead as he did so, however, leaving us both naked in the steam, my body draped against his.

The reversal of hot water for the colder air, combined with everything else, sent me shivering. I started to move for the door, hand still held within his larger one, only to stumble as my knees refused to hold. With another chuckle, Garrus swept me almost possessively into his arms, just like that day after the fight with Jack. Somehow though, this time, I couldn't find the voice to protest the move, snuggling into the warmth of his hold instead.

The sheets were luxurious to the heightened sensitivity of my body, but not nearly as comforting as my _afeni'_ s solid figure at my back as he lay down beside me, pulling me in close as sleep fought to claim us both. After the insanity of the last twenty-four hours, it was one battle we couldn't win, even if we truly wanted to.

Still, as the last tendrils of reality started to slip into slumber, I found the energy to turn and curl into his chest, eyes closed as I murmured the only question that mattered, "No regrets, right?"

He pulled me closer to him, arm draped across my waist as he pulled the covers over us with the other. "No regrets," he whispered back with closed eyes, and I allowed myself to drift into dreamless darkness.

* * *

"Commander." The voice of our ship's AI interrupted my heavy and blissful oblivion, my eyes snapping open with a start.

"What is it _now_ , EDI?" I looked over at the clock with real menace, somehow managing to register that I'd been asleep a _whole_ fourty-five minutes. Whoopee for me.

"Yeoman Chambers wishes to speak with you. Shall I put her through?"

I sighed. "Yes, thank you, EDI." The speaker at my bedside buzzed to life and a nanosecond later, Kelly's normally cheerful voice coming through, loud and clear. "Commander, Tali'Zorah is on her way up to see you."

"What? Why? Did something happen?" Immediately I sat up, trying to gauge the yoeman's voice, all the while tapping Garrus on the hip to rouse him. A quick glance in his direction was all I needed to realize he was awake already. Should have known better, but in my defense, I didn't have all _that_ much experience with this whole situation yet. At least, not the sleeping part.

"She wasn't very specific, Commander, which is understandable, given her distrust of Cerberus personnel. Though, I gather from the way she was rambling to herself, it's a message of some sort that she received that's causing her distress. Thought you might want a head's up, considering."

Perceptive little thing. Should have had dinner with her earlier; maybe we could have gotten along sooner. "Thank you, Kelly. Anything else?"

"That's all for now, Commander."

Everything went quiet again, and I sighed as I started to swing my feet over the edge of the bed. A grunt escaped me a second later, however, as a pair of claws gently encircled my waist and insistently yanked me back down next to their owner. I turned to face Garrus, unable to help the idiotic smile on my face.

"Better get those clothes on," I teased, but he shook his head, opting instead to close his eyes as he leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine.

"Tali will be here any second..." I continued, watching his eyes flutter open, but he still didn't move, leaning forward to bury his nose in my hair possessively.

"In fact, I think I hear the elevator..."

"OK, _fine_ ," he huffed, pulling away just enough so I could see his face, "but only because it's Tali. If it were anyone else, I'd let them be embarrassed, then tell them to go fuck themselves."

"What about keeping the crew in the dark?" I asked jokingly.

"Not _my_ fault if they come to _your_ quarters."

I shoved at him playfully, standing as I moved towards the closet. I yanked out the first pair of jeans and shirt I saw, as well as the first bra and panties that even remotely matched. I pulled the green sports bra and boyshorts on quickly, turning back to find Garrus buried under the covers.

I reached over, snagging the blanket and pulling, exposing the still naked turians' back. "Get up, crazy. Clothes. Now."

"Ugh... two hours ago you were ordering me out of my clothes," he muttered into the pillow, not bothering to look up, "You realize that, right?"

I walked up the staircase, grabbing the bundle that had never made it off the desk and throwing it at him.

"And now I'm ordering them on, Vakarian. Get to it."

"As my _freaking_ Commander wishes," he grumbled, sitting up and grabbing the now strewn garments with a rebellious air. I tossed on my jeans and shirt, turning around to nudge Garrus to hurry up again, only to find him already dressed.

" _Dammit_. That has to be a guy thing..." I started to say, only to be interrupted by, "You're wearing _that_ shirt?"

I looked down, only then noting it was the blue one I'd bought specifically 'cause it reminded me of his clan colors. Not that I was _ever_ going to tell him that.

"You know what? Screw you. I look good in blue."

He mounted the dias, grabbing his visor from next to the still uncleaned omni-tools. It wasn't till then that I realized this was one of the rare times I'd ever seen him without it.

"You sure as hell do. _That's_ the problem."

"You're such a perv," I chuckled.

"Finally, you noticed. Only took you three years, Shepard."

I was saved from having to answer that by a knock on the door, and I padded up barefoot to answer, motioning for him to get rid of his stained and still wet clothes from _Invictus' End_.

"If _mine_ made it into the laundry chute, so can yours."

I swear, if he'd been human, he'd have stuck his tongue out at me. But he also complied, dropping the soggy mess into the opening by the door just as I pressed the button to open it.

Immediately, the bundle that was Tali launched into the room, words coming out in a rush as she tried to convey her message all at one time.

"Shepard! I need to find a ship to the Flotilla immediately. There's been a… oh!" She stopped short, both verbally and physically, as her eyes fell on Garrus. Once again, even with the near opaque face-plate between us, I would bet she was doing the quarian equivalent of a blush.

" _Spirata…_ Shepard. I'm sorry. I didn't realize…" She trailed off in embarrassment, and I reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Tali, it's _fine_. You're not interrupting anything," _at the moment, at least,_ "Now, get in here, sit down, and tell us what this is all about."

When she still hesitated, I physically pulled her into the room, sitting her on the couch and taking a seat next to her. I grabbed her hand in my own as I turned towards her, crossing my legs as I did so. I felt more than saw Garrus move behind me, lending his presence to both me and the woman we considered to be family.

"Okay, Tal," he said, flanging slightly exaggerated as some of his own worry found its way past his calm exterior, "Tell us about this message from home."


	17. Down the Primrose Path (or, House in the Invictus Jungle)

_Got no reason_

_Got no shame_

_Got no family_

_I can blame_

_Just don't let me disappear_

_I'ma tell you everything..._

_-_ OneRepublic _, "Secrets"_

 

**Chapter 16- Down the Primrose Path (or, House in the Invictus Jungle)**

Just like old times…

A mantra for both Teandra _and_ I it would seem, Tali at our side as we moved through the overrun Alerai in search of a man I wasn't sure we'd be able to find. The metallic crash of each geth as it fell, loud and overwhelming in tenor, was almost a vacation compared to the battles we'd fought once upon a time. The flash of the rifle, the smell of cordite, the focus on removing the threats before us as we retook the ship with determination and ease… it was all too reminiscent of a life that was years behind us, yet forever present. The main difference between then and now was the silence that followed us, dogging our heels with every step as, at least for my part, I used the time to try to decipher everything that had happened over the last week or so.

Those six days had felt like weeks, starting with Teandra's and my conversation in the workout room about Sidonis, following the biotic battle and the drunken assault that had occurred afterwards, the barfight, the sex talk, the new steps in our relationship… it's like the last three years had decided to just give into both of us out of sheer stubbornness and grant everything we'd both wanted at one time. Either that, or Murphy had finally decided to pay us back for all the pranks he'd been playing on us recently, with the added twist of throwing it at us in the same way a parent finally tosses a whole jar of candy at a child and says, "Knock yourself out, kid."

It was a lot to take in, and I had no doubt my partner's mind was processing everything much the same way I was while going through the mindless motion of destroying wave after wave of geth, letting my muscle memory do the work as my mind wandered.

_We both watch as the retreating form of Tali leaves Teandra's quarters, much calmer than when she had entered it, with a determined set to her shoulders. Once the door closes, I hear a rustle behind me, the retreating form of my partner as she moves towards her closet once again._

" _We're only an hour from the flotilla, if the info Connors just uploaded to me is accurate. Not much time to get fully suited up and battle ready." Her voice is strained, and I wait for her to look at me, watching her tense and terse movements._

" _What's wrong?" I ask, finally, as she drags her armor out of its storage compartment, tossing it on the couch in exasperation. At my words, her irritation becomes full blown rage, the helmet that follows the armor almost thrown in its wake._

" _Those fucking idiots on the Flotilla, that's what! How fucking DARE they? Tali isn't even capable of treason."_

_I let out a sigh, glad it isn't our shared evening that is causing her distress. "It's been two years, and she's changed, too, Shepard. She's more headstrong now, you know…"_

_She glares over my shoulder, hearing me, but also clearly formulating a plan. "Don't I know it. But she still couldn't do something like that." She shoves a stray strand of hair out of her face, then stops, pulling it in front of her in disgust as she comments, "I need a haircut. This shit is getting too long to deal with."_

_I stare at her for a second before a laugh escapes me in a startled burst, drawing her glare to me instead. I'm unconcerned._

" _What? How much more random of a comment could you have made right there? So, you wanna explain what topic you're avoiding?"_

" _I'm avoiding nothing."_

 _I raise an eye ridge, "So you have_ nothing _to say about last night?"_

_She looks up at me, her mouth upturned mischievously, before saying, "Of course I do, but you need to go get ready." She moves forward, shooing me through the door as she does so, speaking again once I am through it, "Though, I will give you this much…" Her hand moves for the button to her door._

" _It was_ _ **definitely**_ _understating." With a final laugh, from_ both _us, she presses the button, shutting the door between us._

A loud crash brought me out of my thoughts, the falling of a particularly large geth with a rifle to rival Teandra's Widow, and I shook my head forcefully. Battle was calling.

* * *

#####

* * *

The geth rifle kicked like a mule, I'd say that much against it, but I probably wouldn't have felt it even if I hadn't had all the enhancements. My mind was in complete turmoil, bouncing between my absolute rage at the Admiralty board, my pity for Tali and her desperation to find her dad, and my own muddled thoughts in regards to Garrus.

I had been doing and saying things I had promised myself I never would, and damned if I wasn't singing Avril's _What the Hell_ in the back of my head everytime I thought of it. I even caught myself humming snatches of the song occasionally, and set my comm to battle only to keep from disturbing my counterparts. They didn't need my craziness causing either of them to think I wasn't focused on the task at hand.

But it's not like the geth were ever hard for us, anyway. Call it bragging or simple fact, but it was true. I sighted down the scope, dropping a geth with a single explosive shot as he moved towards Tali, then fell back into my battle trance as my brain sent ideas in every direction with the power of an exploding star.

I had no doubt as to our ability to retake this ship. My biggest concern was doing it in time to find Rael. And, if what the logs we were finding were hinting at what I thought they were, kick his ass into oblivion. I was pretty sure that the old Ranger wall-to-wall counseling manual could give me a few tips on how to hurt him without causing a suit rupture.

 _I probably should have offered that same book to Garrus. Cause the way he was looking at Kal would have given ME pause_. Goddess forbid Tali ever actually admit her feelings to that marine and he break her heart, cause there were going to be two _very_ pissed off soldiers ready to remind him that playing games was a good way to get your ass kicked.

Then again, his actions didn't make me think I'd ever have to test that theory.

_The quarian, still as much eye candy as ever, stands in front of us at parade rest. Thing is, I've been a soldier long enough to know the difference between respect and keeping your hands from giving you away. I can't help but grin as Kal tries to explain his presence here. "I, ah, stayed to argue the charges against Tali'Zorah. I've served with her, and she deserves better than what she's getting..."_

_A moment passes between the pair, making it obvious their attraction hasn't been acknowledged yet, and I feel my grin grow wider as Tali responds with only a quiet, "Thanks, Kal."_

I shook my head, still smiling at the memory, as I let loose a fireball attack at the nearest geth. _The board might be a pain in the ass, and a bunch of hypocrites_ , _but I could almost thank them for giving us this excuse to let them see each other. Goddess knows if she'll get another chance by the time we get done with this mission. Wonder if Kal wants to tag along, too, and turn us all into suicidal Romeo and Juliets..._

Yep, that's me. A romantic to the end.

* * *

#####

* * *

I propped my elbows up on my knees, blessing the helmet that kept my smug grin and stifled laughs from being quite so obvious as I watched the show progress.

"Tali helped me defeat Saren and the geth at the Citadel. _That_ should be all the evidence you need." Shepard's voice was raised in defiance, her banging fist the only punctuation she needed for her statement. "But you're not really interested in _Tali_ , are you? This trial isn't about her. It's about the geth!"

Foolishly enough, 'Qwib-Qwib' saw fit to interrupt, "This hearing has nothing to do with the geth!" Even without the aid of his facial expression, his denial fell flat on his audience when compared to the woman's fiery indignation. She responded with more than a little barely contained rage, stabbing her finger towards her verbal opponent as she did so.

"Are you kidding me? YOU want people to sympathize with them. Han'Garrel wants to go to war! None of you care about Tali! She knows more about the geth than _any other quarian alive_! You should be listening to her, not putting her on trial!" She started pacing, continuing her speechgiving, " _Tali'zorah_ saved the Citadel! _She_ saved the Alarei! _She_ showed the galaxy the value of the quarian people. I can't _think_ of stronger evidence than that."

Leave it to the redhead to find a way to defend our sister without having to reveal Rael's dishonor. Then again, I think that after witnessing the quarian finding her father's body, there's not much else she could have done.

We had made our way through the Alerei with little resistance, the most disturbing event of the whole scenario being the volatile back and forth between my _shira_ and her surrogate sister. The geth fell, just like old times, with a minimum of interruption to our progress through the battered ship. The logs we kept finding only hinted at the atrocities committed within the ship's dimly-lit confines. However, the worst shock came upon finding a lone body.

_We reload as we walk through the next doorway, finding a single dead quarian at our feet. The gold armor, decorated with red piping, glimmers dully in the dim light as Shepard stares down. She is obviously wondering at the presence of this solitary marine among all the carnage, but doesn't have long to contemplate before an anguished cry intrudes on her calm observance._

" _Father!" The small form rushes forward, pushing past us to kneel over her fallen family, "No, no, no! You always had a plan. Masked life signs, or, and onboard medical stasis program, maybe. You! You wouldn't..." Her slightly-muffled tears are only a backdrop to her actions, as she frantically checks over her father's body for any indicator that he's not actually dead. That he hasn't left her, alone to pick up the pieces of a life kept secret from her._

" _They're wrong. You wouldn't just die like this! You wouldn't leave me to clean up your mess. You can't!" The angry accusations are heartbreaking, soul-ripping, and I start to move forward when our Commander beats me to the punch. Reaching down, she pulls Tali up insistently._

" _Hey, hey. Come here," she pulls the younger girl into an embrace, making soothing noises all the while as Tali tries to calm herself. The tears won't stop, though, and her sobs are only slightly subdued when she finally pulls away._

" _Damn it. Damn it, I'm sorry…" Shame radiates off of her, again embarrassed at being like this in front of who, to her, is the ever unflappable Shepard. I know better._

" _For what?" Teandra responds sternly, but not unkindly, "You've got_ nothing _to be sorry about. Don't you think you do for a single minute."_

_The quarian and the human share a glance, and while both wear helmets and should be unreadable to one another, that is not the case. Slowly, Tali nods, turning her head back to face her father._

" _Maybe... He would have known I'd come. Maybe he left a message." She taps her omni-tool, only to be rewarded by the voice of a male quarian. His accent is similar to our quarian's, but his speech pattern is slower and more deliberate._

"Their main hub is on the bridge. You'll need to destroy it to stop their VI processes from forming new neural links. Make sure Han'Gerrel and Daron Xen see the data. They must—" _With a yell, the message cuts off, leaving a deafening silence behind. A silence only broken by two words, almost a sigh, "Thanks, Dad ."_

_It is the first time I've ever heard her refer to Rael as anything but 'father'._

_I watch as Teandra's finger twitches, a sign of hesitation, before she finally finds the words she wants to say, "He knew you'd come for him. He was trying to help you. It's not perfect, it's not what you wanted. But it's the best he could do."_

" _I do not know what's worse: thinking he never really cared, or thinking that he did, and that this was the only way he could show it."_

" _The second one," I say, voice quieter than I intend, "With the first one,_ Shira _, it's easy to pretend_ you _don't care, either." Personal experience has taught me many things, and if there was anything I was an expert on? It was screwed up families and skewed relationships within them. Especially between father and child._

_We both watch as she squares her shoulders, becoming the warrior she was in our absence… but her voice is still strained as she speaks, "It doesn't matter. One way or the other. I cared; and I'm here; and we're ending this."_

"Are the admirals prepared to render judgments?" The voice of Shala'Raan punctured my recollections, bringing me forcefully back to the present. I glanced up at the judges, watching as they each glanced down to tap at their omni-tools. You could almost feel the intake of breath around the room as quiet insinuated itself into every crevice and corner of the grove. Finally, a lifetime later, Shala looked down at her own 'tool, then back out at the crowd.

"Tali'Zorah, in light of your history of service, we do not find sufficient evidence to convict. You are cleared of all charges." I caught Tali bowing her head in relief in my peripherals, but was still watching her aunt as she continued speaking, "Commander Shepard, please accept these gifts in appreciation for you taking the time to represent one of our people."

You can be sure Teandra wasn't going to let such a blatant invitation pass, especially when she was already prepared to take down the entire board blindfolded. "If you appreciate me, then _listen_ for once. The Reapers are coming. I'm going to need your help to stop them. Please don't throw away your lives against the geth." I look at her in mild disbelief, but she _did_ have a point, after all. Still, it's not as if the geth were peacemakers, either. _Though, in comparison to the Reapers..._ I snorted.

"Thank you, Commander Shepard," Admiral Koris responded, saying his first kind word to any of our trio since the whole fiasco had begun, "I hope this board carefully considers your advice."

The redhead's only response was to shove herself angrily away from the railing, shaking her head all the while.

"Fucking politics," I heard her mutter to me over the comm, "I _hate_ politics, and I've _always_ hated politicians. Killing every last one is actually one of the things I think Finch got _right_ somedays."

"This hearing is concluded," Shala'Raan spoke one last time, even as Teandra had already begun to move away, "Go in peace, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Keelah se'lai.

"Keelah se'lai." The murmurs of the crowd were both hushed and reverent, and slowly everyone began to disperse, their business there concluded. Tali, almost bouncing, did manage to make it with Shepard to my own impromptu seat before letting her first comment loose. Once again, I stifled a smile, grateful for the return of our cheerfully exuberant sister.

"I can not _believe_ you pulled that off. The things you said... I have never had anyone speak like that on my behalf. Thank you for being there for my father and me, even when..." she hesitated, then charged on, "...well, thank you."

"We can still go back in and get you exiled, if you want," neither of us needed to see through her visor to know she was smirking, "I'd even let Garrus do the talking so it'd take less time."

My indignant cry of, "Hey!" was interrupted by Tali's own amused and relieved response, "Hah! Thanks, but I am fine with things like this. And it is fun watching you shout."

There was a moment of silence, Teandra gazing at Tali, before stating simply, "Tali, about what your father said, what he did... you deserved better."

The quarian tilted her head, then placed her hand on the Commander's shoulder as she replied, "I got better, Shepard. I got you."

Shaking her head, Shepard clapped her on the back softly, laughing louder now, "Well, come on, Tali'zorah vas _**Normandy**_. Let's get back to OUR ship."

We turned to leave, Tali's single wistful glance towards Kal the only regret we had at leaving the Flotilla behind.

* * *

_**Partial record of a chat transcript between Jerlah Shavina**_ **(** **Jungle Skipper)** _**and Garrus Vakarian,**_ **(** **Normandy):**

(09:53) J: As much fun as it is to catch up, I have a question for you.

(09:53) G: …So ask it.

(09:54) J: Did you ask her to dance yet?

(09:58) G: I have no idea what you're talking about...

(09:59) J: Sweet spirits, even over the extranet you're a terrible liar.

(10:00) G: It can't be that obvious. I DO have a bit of subtlety.

(10:01) J: YOU are about as subtle as a rampaging _shatha_. Besides, you were just never one to play games when you set your sight on a target.

(10:02) G: Not that it ever did me any good before…

(10:03) J: TELL HER.

(10:03) G: I'M WORKING ON IT, DAMN YOU.

(10:03) G: STOP PUSHING.

(10:04) J: I could tell her for you, if you want...

(10:07) G: Jerlah, I will not hesitate to tell everyone we know about your little adventure with that volus...

(10:11) J: Okay, you win. For now.

(10:20) J: BTW, how are Sol and Sabira

(10:21) G: Mom is... better some days, worse others

(10:22) G: Sol is dealing best she can

(10:25) G: How did Castis look last time you saw him?

(10:25) J: Like he had the weight of Invictus on his shoulders

(10:27) G: You always DID have a way with words. At least he's talking to you. He and mom always did like you.

(10:32) G: Did he ask about me?

(10:33) J: Why don't you vid him and ask him yourself?

(10:38) G: Even discounting having to explain my newest scars, I can't.

(10:39) J: Why do you insist on being so stubborn, Garrus? There's rebellious, and then there's ridiculous.

(10:39) G: NO. I mean, I _can't_. He's the one who dictated I leave. I not _allowed_ to contact him until he requests it

(10:41) J: NOW you're sticking by tradition?

(10:41) J: That'll be a first

(10:43) G: That's not fair. I paid my time to trying to follow tradition...

(10:44) J: No, you spent your time **railing** against every authority figure, then wondered why they didn't have the guts to promote you in spite of the fact that you had all the right skills.

(10:44) J: No one wants to be responsible for the actions of the man they promoted, if they can't PREDICT his actions

(10:58) G: You know, breaking up with you was supposed to make these conversations EASIER

(11:01) G: Alright then. Let me ask this. Is that why I was never "promoted" where you were concerned?

(11:03) J: Come on, Garrus. Do you REALLY want to discuss this?

(11:03) G: Yes.

(11:04) J: This isn't just a ploy to change the subject?

(11:05) G: Well, maybe, but I also want to know.

(11:08) J: Why now?

(11:10) G: Oh, _I_ don't know. Maybe because I want to know what I keep doing WRONG, so that I might get something RIGHT for a change?

(11:12) J: *sigh* Why does it have to be something you did wrong?

(11:12) J: And _you_ taking a personal problem head-on? That's new for you.

(11:13) G: Yeah, well, I got a lecture about "avoidance" not long ago.

(11:14) J: And I'm betting Shepard gave you that lecture, didn't she?

(11:15) G: oh, SHUT UP.

(11:15) J: I like this girl more and more for you the more I hear about her.

(11:15) G: Yeah, well, it's good to know at least someone in the Hierarchy does...

(11:16) G: One down, ten-billion to go

(11:25) J: By the way, I thought you should know. Lantar is coming to the clan meeting

(11:27) G: You found him?

(11:27) J: Yes, thanks to your tip.

(11:29) J: Big payout on that one from your Castis. He even invited me to attend, but I didn't give him a definitive answer yet. Are you going or not?

(11:31) G: So let me think about this: I have a traitor, a father who's pretending I don't exist, a mother who doesn't know who I am, and a sister who spends more time arguing with me than talking.

(11:32) G: Oh, and a girlfriend who might try to fight them ALL

(11:32) G: SURE. I'll go too. Sounds like _fun_.

(11:33) G: Haven't met my quota on torture lately.

(11:33) G: Shepard's my primary source for it, after all, and she's been mellowing out

(11:34) J: You could tell 'em you danced, distract them all

(11:34) G: Yeah, that would go over wonderfully.

(11:34) G: Wait, I didn't say...

(11:34) J: Sure you did, just now

(11:37) G: I fucking hate you

(11:37) J: Maybe so, but that doesn't make me any less right.

(11:39) J: Does she know what it means?

(11:39) G: No, and _you_ are going to butt out of it

(11:40) J: You have to tell her eventually, Garrus.

(11:41) G: No, I don't.

(11:41) G: I REALLY don't

(11:42) J: The longer you wait, the madder she'll be.

(11:42) J: Because she WILL find out.

(11:46) J: She's perceptive. Especially for a human.

(11:52) G: Can't you just leave me my blind optimism for once?

(11:53) J: No.

(11:54) J: That would do a disservice to both of us.

(11:54) J: Me for lying, you for not facing up to the facts.

(12:01) G: What is it about you that always makes me feel like a _ben'jee_?

(12:01) G: Wait. Don't answer that.

(12:15) J: She's right. About avoiding your family.

(12:16) J: Stick to your duty, Garrus, and you may be surprised at how Castis responds to your mate

(12:16) J: If he doesn't see her as a threat to you fulfilling your responsibilities...

(12:18) G: He'll STILL hate her. 

(12:18) G: Despite how much as he respects Alec Ryder, N7 training won't be much help in _her_ case, since she's also both human  _and_ a SPECTRE.

(12:20) J: She's a human that might as well be turian, the way she acts. You can bet he'll see that.

(12:20) G: Sure he will, right as he gets her kicked off planet

(12:25) G: Let me give you a small sample of that conversation right now... "You brought that SPECTRE, the whole reason I disowned you in the first place, to this sacred meeting? You couldn't just show up and take this like a true turian, could you?" "You're fucking kidding, right? She's the only reason I bothered to show up at all, Dad!" "Taking orders from a human now, are we?" "NO, Dad. I came because I wanted her to know that I'm not ashamed of her, and to show you that I'm not shirking my responsibilities."

(12:29) J: I doubt he'd be that blatant about it, but you may be right. Then again, there's always the challenge.

(12:30) J: Which you'll have to consider if you want to make ANYTHING official

(12:31) G: Who needs official? We don't. And she's not really big on formalities.

(12:31) G: Diplomacy? Yes. Formalities? Not so much.

(12:33) J: Well, don't tell me _you_ aren't

(12:33) J: You'll eventually want papers and you'll want your markings on that pale face of hers

(12:36) G: You know something that ends in dead bodies? _Demands_ to that Spectre, even from me.

(12:36) G: So, I don't see tattoos in the picture, Jerlah. She doesn't do attachments.

(12:37) J: Well, hey, you ever dump her, let me know.

(12:37) J: I might take your place.

(12:38) G: Damn you, Jerlah.

(12:38) G: You started this conversation, so be serious.

(12:40) J: I was.

(12:46) J: You're imaging certain things right now, aren't you?

(12:47) G: Now I really, REALLY hate you.

(12:50) J: No you don't.

(12:51) G: Oh, I so do.

(12:51) G: I'm officially declaring all the women in my life insane

(12:56) J: Look, just consider what I'm saying, alright. We might never have been suited for anything more than bed-mates, but we were together a long time. I know you, I know your family, and damn if I'm not _getting_ to know this girl of yours. Once upon a time, Castis might have stalled a gizzard over the idea of the two of you. Nowadays? I think he's realizing he only has a few turns of the jungle left. Give him a chance to give _you_ a chance.

(12:57) G: If he's SO concerned about my well-being, then why call this meeting at all?

(12:57) J: How the hell ELSE is he going to draw you home? I said he was a tired, old man, not a doddering fool. He still has his pride, and he won't _beg_ his only son for attention, you can bet that.

(12:58) J: I have to go, but will you be on later?

(12:58) G: I usually am nowadays.

(12:59) J: What, not enjoying the perks of the _alerenti_ yet...

(13:00) G: I thought you had to go. Why don't you do it?

(13:01) J: I suppose the answer is 'no' then, or you wouldn't be carrying all that tension...

(13:01) G: GoodBYE, Jerlah.

/User disconnected/

* * *

I wandered into the galley, more than a little unnerved by the intuition Jerlah had displayed during our conversation. If Teandra had _any_ clue about turian mating rituals at _all_ , she'd already be drawing the same conclusions. Then again, if she had any clue, I'd already be searching the _Normandy_ for whatever body part she'd decided to remove.

I glanced up, coming up short as red hair caught my attention. Teandra was staring into her bowl of food intently, though what could _possibly_ be so interesting about the brown mush was beyond my comprehension. She didn't even look up as I opened the cold storage, removing a drink and approaching her.

I moved to the table, pulling out the chair across from her, which finally caused her to look up with a start. Her face was sad, spoon held loosely in her hand, though she smiled when she realized who had interrupted her solitude.

"Hey, _afeni_. Sorry. Guess I was lost in thought."

I sat, tilting my head, as I asked, "Lost? You were wandering about blindfolded, Little Spectre. What's bothering you?"

"I'm not sure I want to talk about it." She deliberately took a bite of the 'food,' then grimaced in disgust. "And, big suprise, cold oatmeal is _not_ conducive to a happy palate." She shoved the bowl away in disgust, eyes focused somewhere in the vicinity of the middle of the table, thoughts seeming to stray even farther from the present than when I had approached.

"So, don't want to talk about it, huh?" I smiled softly, tapping the table by her hand with a single talon,"Does this fall under the category of avoidance?"

She looked up, meeting my gaze with a half-hearted smile. "Perhaps, but that's not why I said that. After everything Tali just went through, what I'm feeling seems... selfish." She started tracing small lines on the table absently, giving her an excuse to once again avert her gaze downward as she took care to avoid my hand so close to hers; not as if she didn't want to touch me, but more as if it were an energy release as her thoughts tried to collect themselves into something coherent.

"What is it?" I said after a moment, trying to keep my voice neutral, "Just say it."

She sighed once again, this time with obvious exasperation, "Garrus, I'm not sure even _you_ would understand. You're relationship with your dad at least existed, even if he's been a _ben'jee_ for a good part of it. Everyone on this ship has had family issues in some form or another." She stopped, closing her eyes heavily, "How many more father figures am I going to have turn on me before I figure out not to let that sort of person in?"

I tilted my head, confused by her comment. She'd never had a father, not in the traditional sense, and Jackson had done nothing but love her. So, what was she talking about?

"I'm sorry, Teandra, but you're going to have to explain this one to me."

She snorted, looking back up at me with a sardonic expression, "You want a psychology lesson, huh? I have lots of them. Just because I _hate_ head-docs doesn't mean I haven't tried to figure out _why_ I'm not quite all there. Turns out, one of the side effects of my fucked up childhood is that I 'latch onto male authority figures in an attempt to fill the role of my absent father.' Call it what you want, but even knowing I do it, I can't help it." She picked up the spoon from her discarded 'oatmeal,' scooping spoonfuls of the goop into it, then watching in fascination as they plopped back into the bowl. I simply waited.

"All the kids at the orphanage ever talked about was finding a family, getting a home. I found that with Jackson. Then Finch took it, and for a while even he became someone I learned from and adored. And then I ran away from Finch, right into Anderson's fatherly persona as he took me under wing. And yet, _all_ of them betrayed me in the end, didn't they? Or maybe I just let them all down."

I growled softly as she said Finch's name, commenting,"Why would you give a _riza_ about letting any of them down, especially Finch? After what he did..."

"I KNOW. But..." She pulled her arms around herself, shooting me a look of pain as she said with resignation, "Goddamn. Forget it. Forget I said anything." She started to get up, but I placed a hand on her arm, suddenly blessing the empty dining area for giving us a place where she _just_ might let me into that hard exterior willingly for once.

"Wait. I'm sorry. Keep going." She just looked at me for a moment, indecisive, eyes alternating between my face and the hallway that led to the elevator. I squeezed her arm gently. "Please?"

With a shake of her head, she sat back down with a force that made it seem all her will to stand had left her: body slumping , face ducked under her hair fully this time, gaze pointedly turned anywhere but my face as she gently pulled out of my grasp.

"Tali's dad might not have been around, but at least he cared," her words were hesitant, quietly spoken, but forceful nonetheless, "Your parents might be a little... eccentric, but if your dad didn't love you on some level, he'd have just let you go without bothering to call the meeting."

 _Why is it I'm the_ last _person to figure that out?_ I thought, mildly irritated at myself for overlooking that very fact.

"But who knows if _any_ of the men I respected so much felt anything for me at all, Garrus? Anderson certainly seemed to have no qualms letting me go. Finch only tracked me back down when he needed something. And maybe if we'd meant more to him, Jackson would have fought harder to save me and Elayne that night."

"Teandra..." the word, spoken in a disapproving tone that I hadn't planned on using, drew an almost pleading response from the girl.

"No! I _know_ it's not fair to say that, but it's how I feel sometimes... Okay?" Her voice dropped again, taking on a bitter edge, "You don't want the truth? Don't ask."

"Jackson loved you _very_ much," I responded softly, "I'm sure he never forgot you."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I know turians believe everyone's spirit moves on, but I don't. He abandoned me just like the rest; just went and fucking _died_ on me when I needed him there to protect me."

Irrational anger, but not unexplainable or unexpected. I had gone through the very same thing after she left, hadn't I? And there was something about the words she was using that made it clear I was probably the first she'd ever expressed this rage to. The very fact that she was sharing it meant that she wanted to purge some of that poison from her wounds, and I was the surgeon that, for some spirits confusing reason, she had chosen. Still, I couldn't help but wonder how many more of these issues were there, festering beneath the surface as she tried to protect us all from the things she didn't think we'd be able to accept her saying.

Every single member of the crew could relate to her, on some level or another. The more broken they were, like Jack and Thane, the more she found reason to let them know they weren't alone. But in the end, she was the one who tried to keep herself bound tight, just block everything out. Whether it was to keep us from realizing she wasn't in total control of every single aspect of her life, or to keep from having to deal with the pain of her experiences by pretending they didn't matter, the process wasn't any less damaging.

Or any less frustrating. Which is why the fact that I'd been encouraging that tendency, albeit unintentionally, by hiding the truth about her father from her swept over me like a cold slap of water to the face. I had to tell her. It was time.

With a solid resolve, and before I could play the coward once again, I took both her hands in my own. Grasping them firmly, I swallowed hard, and spoke before I could think any harder about what I was about to say. "No, **Tandy**. He _never_ forgot you."

"I wish I could believe that Garrus, but…" She trailed off, voice dropping an octave as she did so. Her head snapped up immediately, eyes widening in fear as she said, " _wha- what_ did you just call me?"

I took a deep breath, then repeated myself. "Tandy. You're childish way of saying 'Thandie.' Translated, it's..."

"Swahili for 'beloved,'" She finished automatically, staring at me with her mouth slightly open, face a mask of betrayal and hurt. "Garrus, _how_ do you know that?" She tried to pull her hands away when I didn't immediately answer, but I refused to let go, grip tightening. Eyes still glued to my own, her voice cracking in grief, she asked again, " _How_? You better _fucking_ start explaining, asshole."

I took a deep breath, let it out, and started speaking. "He was on my team. On Omega," I closed my eyes once again, "He died the day before you found me."

Disbelief flickered across her face, then anger. "No, it can't be true… it can't... But... even if it _is_ , how could you keep this from me, Garrus? _How could you...?_ "

I spoke over her, determined not to miss the point of finally telling her about what he'd done, "He was the _last_ one to die, and in his own blood he'd written, 'I atoned.' He _never_ forgave himself for letting you go. Either of you."

She stopped her angry rambling, and I looked up to meet her gaze, "He... _didn't_? But, I don't understand… WHY didn't he come back for me? WHY did he leave me there… with... with HIM!"

I charged forward, gaining strength as the target of her ire shifted. Jackson's spirit could handle a little criticism so I could explain better. "He was in a coma for three weeks after you were taken. When he woke up, you were still on the leash," she flinched at the word, and I hated myself for being the cause of it, but charged on, "Elayne was mentally broken, locked away in a hospital somewhere, and he couldn't watch you both wither away as he stood helpless." I opened my eyes again, drowning in her eyes, focusing on the barely contained tears they held. "He left so he could become the man he needed to be to save you. He came back too late."

"Wait..." Her grip tightened on my hands, breath beginning to hasten in shock as she struggled to accept this newest strike, "Elayne is... alive? But Finch told me... **that** utter _bastard._ Manipulation 101. Why didn't I _see_?"

I released my grip on her hands, but she left the there, loosely contained within my own, and I took comfort from that. "I don't know if she still is; Jackson never talked about it. But I know his portions of our earnings never seemed to stay for very long. I assumed it all went to gambling and Aria's girls like the rest, even though he never seemed the type. Maybe he was funding her upkeep somewhere? I never asked, because..." I trailed off.

"He was a connection to me, and you'd lost me. Right? Pain was too much of a bitch to bear for no good reason."

I nodded, shooting her a appreciative look, grateful I didn't have to explain in any more detail why I hadn't delved any deeper into the mystery of her lost family.

She stopped again, a small but genuine half-smile touching her lips, "You son of a bitch... _Poison Study_. That's how you found it, you _ben'jee._ "

I laughed, and was happy to hear it ring out clear as any normal day; a relief. "He kept the copy you reread so much, though he was willing to let me read it once I revealed our own connection. Our pictures of you were..."

She smirked, holding up a hand. "Let me guess; complete opposites. He knew the sweet, young, innocent, romantic version of me. You'd have liked her. Guess I should say I'm sorry you missed out on that little girl."

"…I was going to say quite similar." I responded, smiling a little at the way the badass woman in front of me could sound so much like a youngling sometimes.

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you get that?"

"Let me see if I can remember his words exactly, 'She was always stubborn, but in an inspirin' sort of way. Never let anything get in her way when she set her mind on something, let me tell you. Fierce as a rattlesnake in a pinch, especially if you messed with any of the Irregulars. And those vids... I swear, if I had to watch 'Beauty and the Beast' one more time, I was going to turn _into_ a fictional character."

She turned her head, sighing, "That sounds like him. And only _he_ would remember that movie… I think we wore out two separate copies before I was done." She dropped her head, hand shaking within my loose grip. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The time was never right," I said softly, "You've been so worn down, for so long. But I couldn't let you think Jackson had abandoned you, too. His sole purpose for joining me, long before he knew who I was to you, was to try to make up for not saving 'his girls'."

She laughed, a sound that rang with teardrops, though her face remained dry. "I bet I was right on Illium, wasn't I? Bet you two got along from day one…"

I nodded again, growing serious once more. "He became one of my most dependable resources, Teandra. He'd dedicated his life to learning the skills necessary to make sure that no one would ever endure what you and Elayne had. Anyone who dared to prey on the weak became his target, and those that did were likely to be killed in some very creative ways."

"Yeah. He was always quick to take out anyone who threatened our way of life, at least." She laughed again, a little more mirth creeping into it this time as she said, "Just what my life needs: another vigilante." This was said without bitterness, however. "Garrus... goddamn it. _Why_ didn't you tell me this before we went after Sidonis? _WHY_?"

"Would've handled it a little differently, huh?" I couldn't help but feel a little bit smug, knowing that even _her_ moral compass could be skewed by such a personal betrayal. _"Wouldn't let it change me,"_ my ass.

"The killing? NO. But I could have _confronted_ him about it! Killing Finch didn't make the things he'd done a faint memory. There was no gratification in his death; he was a predator, and he underestimated his prey. That's all. How much _more_ petty would it be to kill Sidonis for it? But I would have had a thing or two to say, you can _bet_."

I just stared at her, trying to process her words. Finally, I narrowed my eyes, incredulous. "So even _knowing_ that this crosses into personal, you still wouldn't have let me kill Lantar?" I felt my muscles tense at even the small thought of that man's name, but it was a muted response, as I did have a certain morbid curiousity about how she would respond.

She stared at me, head tilted slightly, a spark of life returning to her eyes. "No, I wouldn't have. Because if this is a man that Jackson trusted, then there's some damn good in him somewhere."

I huffed at her reasoning, but I suppose I shouldn't have underestimated her love for her surrogate father. "You are impossible. You know that, right?"

"No," she sighed, "just too damn galaxy-worn to believe in things like revenge. It doesn't do anyone a damn bit of good in the end. At least, not in my experience…" She trailed off again, the sorrow returning to her features in the moment of silence that followed. I struggled to find something, anything, to say to break that quiet, only to come up empty, when...

" _Oh_ , Commander?" We both started, the voice that came over the intercom at that second bordering on downright evil, as we both looked to the speaker with trepidation.

"Yes, Joker?" Teandra asked

"Guess what _I_ found? Just guess?"

"Your sense of humor?"

"Nope, that was under my bed, behind my favorite porn vids." You could almost visualize him swinging his chair back and forth, throwing an occasional glance at EDI as he spoke into the com.

"Your humility, assuming you have any?"

"Nope, _that_ got crushed by my manhood a long time ago." I rolled my eyes at that response, a motion that was imitated with much more exaggeration by my partner.

"Then what?"

"Let's see if this jogs your memory, 'Never tell me the odds!'"

The redhead eyes flared to their old life in an instant, momentarily forgetting our conversation as unsuppressed joy washed across her features. "You didn't! You found it? You found _Star Wars?_ "

You could imagine his self-satisfied smirk as he responded, "I _did_. Now, _who's your favorite pilot_?"

"You are, without a shadow of a doubt," she pushed a hand through her hair, shoving it away from her face, exposing her now almost glowing expression, "I owe you one, Joker."

"Hey, just make sure I've got a seat in the front row when you guys watch it. Leia; slave costume. Enough said." With a crackle, the speaker died, though I had no doubt that we weren't alone.

Shepard looked around the room for a moment, glancing towards her XO's room, then looking back at me with a playful smirk.

" _Now_ that's _the same look she gave me last night. I have a feeling there may be trouble afoot,"_ I thought. Looking at her, happy and smiling, I couldn't help but draw similarities to the memory of her flushed and gleaming skin and breathy gasps from the evening before, causing flaring my mandibles in a small smile as I realized that it probably wouldn't be the last time I would by allowed to see her that way.

"Edi," the voice of the Commander was almost gleeful as she spoke, "Put Miranda on for me. I think we need to schedule a little extended shore leave." It was only a moment later that com flared to life, causing Shepard's grin to grow even wider.

While the frantic voice of the _Normandy_ 's XO and its amused Commander bickered for a moment, I took advantage of Teandra's distraction, and lightly tapped my com.

"You did that to cheer her up, didn't you, Jeff?" I said in a whisper, chuckling quietly. "I owe you another one now."

"I'm not admitting one way or another, Vakarian. But next time, how about warn me before you drop something life-altering on her, okay? I can't always be the 'big damn hero.'"

I snorted, smiling slightly as I shook my head, glancing over at the now silently gloating Commander, "Consider it done."


	18. Shepard Goes to the Movies

_Love hurts whether it's right or wrong_

_I can't stop cause I'm having too much fun_

_All my life I've been good,_

_But now_

_I'm thinking 'what the hell?'_

Avril Lavigne - "What the Hell"

 

**Chapter 17 - Shepard Goes to the Movies**

"No, drell. I cannot accept that!" I yelled, gesturing wildly, "I cannot allow myself to think for even a single damn second that a person can be anything less than completely responsible for the deaths they cause. If I do, it would be saying that it's alright to decide who lives or dies!" My voice had risen in spite of my determination not to let Thane shake me. Again. Just like the last three times we'd had this freaking conversation.

 _Maybe I should thank him for keeping me humble_? I thought with a snort, attempting to once again give myself the calm that I was able to maintain with any _other_ crew member under my command. The lizard in front of me just had the damn audacity to keep pushing my buttons...

"Is that not something you already do every day?" came his incredibly calm and somewhat condescending reply (okay, I might have been imagining the second. So sue me). "Every person who raises a rifle against you or someone you care for, every mercenary who wishes to earn a paycheck in order to support his loved ones; you already decide they deserve to die by taking the proverbial shot. I simply believe that my responsibility ends when someone _else_ has given that order."

"Bullshit! Or you wouldn't be doing this mission in an attempt to 'atone'." Okay. Definitely still pissed. Something about the way he could keep himself so closed off and calm while I was simmering made it hard to remember my cast iron control over my own impulses.

His quiet sigh echoed through the room even more loudly than my yell had, his hands clasped behind his back as he turned away from the weapons he was examining. "You must learn to see things this way, or you shall remain just as disconnected as my son."

I frowned, tilting my head in confusion, my voice finally dropping below the level of a battle cry. "Disconnected? What _are_ you talking about, Thane?"

He sighed again, meeting my gaze with those disconcerting onyx eyes. "Disconnected. The body is not your true self; the soul is. Body and soul work as one in a whole person. When the body is weakened by despair or fear—when the body is ill or injured, the individual is disconnected. No longer Whole."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes in turn, to listen even if I didn't fully believe the things he was saying. To match his unwavering gaze in spite of the fact that the silent killer still unnerved me more than I liked to admit, even to myself. "Thane, I _don't_ have your contacts and I _don't_ have your tracking skills. Not that I'm not willing, but why do you need my help for this?"

Again, a moment of silence fell between us; the kind that always left me wondering if he would speak at all, or simply fall back into his meditations for good. But that was not to happen this time, his quiet voice emitting measured words, "I don't need your help. I want it. The last time I saw my son…" His eyes flew open once again, his mind dragging him into yet another memory of pain as he remembered Kolyat and his hatred for his father's absence, at Irikah's funeral, of all places. I stood still, waiting for it to pass, my heart going out to him as it did every time he endured this. I might not suffer from the curse of eidetic memory, but PTSD can break you down almost as much when it comes to horrors past. I could only thank the Goddess he could remember the happy ones with the same clarity.

As the memory passed, I placed a blessedly unshaking hand on his shoulder, and took comfort when he didn't shrug it off.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I didn't mean to make you relive that."

"Perfect memory. Sometimes, it is a burden," his shoulders were slumped in unspoken pain, head refusing to turn to look at me as he came back to the present.

I snorted, though I did manage to sound sympathetic as I commented, "Hate to break it to you, but regular memories aren't such great things, either."

At that, he finally did turn, fixing those black orbs on me once again, determination now filling his often blank features, "Which is why you must learn how to make yourself Whole again, Shepard. So long as you not only remain disconnected, but continue to become even more so every day, your fear of those memories and the physical reaction they cause will destroy you. Only your ability to see yourself as a weapon will save you."

I clenched my teeth, trying to remind myself that he meant well, that he didn't know about Red, that letting myself become angry enough to lose control leading her to attempt to attack him would be like signing a death warrant. But there was one thing Thane had gotten right: the Widow was utterly _terrified_ of him, and it may prove to be her weakness one day, something I blessed. I had also finally decided, after many a contemplative afternoon in his presence, that Red was also the source of my irrational aversion to him. She associated him too closely to the man who had created her, with whom she'd always walked a tightrope of fear and servitude.

Gathering my temper to me with a deep breath, I turned, walking towards the door slowly. After two steps, though, I fought my own emotions to face him once again, anger and sympathy at war. Sympathy won.

I looked studiously at the floor as the words left my mouth, as if I were going to be quizzed on the pattern of the decking after I spoke, "I will help. With your son, I mean. As to the rest? I can make no promises, Thane. But I will think about it."

I felt him watching me as I left through the swishing doors, an itching between my shoulder blades as his quiet response followed on my heels. "That is all I can ask, Shepard. And thank you."

* * *

"I do not understand, Officer Moreau."

The voice of EDI broke through my angry and contemplative thoughts as I walked, and I realized that I'd ended up outside the cockpit. I smiled, thanking my subconscious for taking me to one of the few places that was _sure_ to cheer me up.

The sound of a song that was strikingly familiar, as it was probably pirated from my own playlist, wafted through the background as the pilot replied with exasperation, "Exactly _what_ part of that didn't you understand about our movie day?"

The reply of the A.I. held an almost defensive edge as she responded, "I do not understand why the members of this ship would choose to spend time watching fictional accounts of danger and adventure when they already experience these things on a daily basis."

A heavy sigh, easily heard even over the dominating rhythm of _Zoot Suit Riot_ that reigned over the speakers, was the only reply Joker made as he attempted to formulate a reply to this, his mouth opening and closing a few times wordlessly. I waited until his face was painted with complete consternation, obviously unsure how to respond, before I finally started laughing and stepped into the room more fully to make my presence known.

Still chuckling, I said, "That's the point, EDI."

Joker jumped at my words, recovering quickly and turning to meet my entrance with a grin. I winked conspiratorially at him before continuing, "When you experience those things for real, there's always a risk of someone getting hurt. When it's on screen? You know there's going to be a happy ending, or at least a nice, concise conclusion. Life among us organic meatbags isn't so easy."

There was another moment of silence, as if she were considering this, before she asked, "Organic lifeforms prefer to expose themselves to situation that are unlikely to happen rather than prepare themselves for events that may actually occur?"

Again, I couldn't help but chuckle, tapping my foot to the beat as I spoke, "It's called entertainment, EDI, because it _entertains_ us with things that are at least a little unbelievable. Years ago, things like meeting aliens, performing magic, and space travel were considered not just _unlikely_ to happen, but impossible. Now those things are basics of our lives, at least if you count biotics as a form of magic." I shook my head, "So who's to say movies like _Nekyia Corridor_ aren't the truths of tomorrow?"

A snort from the pilot's chair caused me to turn my head in Joker's direction. He wasn't exactly looking apologetic, though. "Tell you what, I'll ignore the fact that you're talking about some simulstim about Asari religion, and focus on the more interesting topic. Did you kiddies have fun the other night? You must have, if you're buying him new armor already."

I crossed my arms, glaring, still trying to determine whether I was irritated or amused, "Tell you what, _I'll_ overlook the fact that you are deliberately ignoring my instruction not to bring it up, and focus on not killing you. Now, what garbage are you spouting about armor?"

"Big crates delivered last port? Taylor helped bring them onboard, and was supposed to pass the message along." Joker smirked, "Are you sure Jacob didn't tell you about _the prize_?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him, not to be baited into trying to decipher what embarrassing joke he was making Jacob the butt of this time. "Um, no, cause then I wouldn't be _asking_ you, would I?"

He sighed, though his mock exasperation was obviously his way of messing with my head, then yelled "Connors!" with a sarcastic grin. A startled yelp from behind me, closely followed by a cleared throat, then the crewman himself, came through the doorway.

"Y-yes, Sir?" The straw-haired navigator, by all appearances, would seem to almost be scared of our boisterous pilot. However, there was a twinkle in his eye that made me question _exactly_ how subservient he actually was to Joker's orders and reprimands, and a slightly mischievous tone to his voice that would have been easy to miss if the eyes hadn't given it away.

"So nice to see you just standing there, instead of working. You know, for a change. But thank you so much for volunteering to bring that new gear up. Grab your little boyfriend and get it into the mess hall." He grinned at me, "I think you troublemakers'll want to see this, and since everyone should be heading there for our little Leia striptease..."

"Joker..." I sighed.

"Right..." He glanced at the doorway. "You're still here, Navigator? I could probably talk the Commander into giving you latrine duty, since you seem to be hanging around looking for something to do..."

Connor' quickly retreating footsteps weren't _quite_ a run, but it was a close call.

Ten minutes later had the somewhat panting navigator and slightly more winded form of engineer Gregson bringing a heavily laden leviboard off the elevator, the silver boxes it carried all emblazoned with the Cerberus logo. I sighed, moving toward the load as the board settled, throwing open the first lid with exasperation.

" _Great_. What _wonderful_ items have they procured to bribe us with this time... oooh..." my sarcasm and complaints trailed off as I took in the contents of the first container, a datapad carefully cushioned and positioned on the top. I hesitated, waiting on the poisonous insect that must surely accompany such a blatant trojan horse of gear and weaponry, only to have Lawson push past me to try and grab the datapad. I beat her to it, just barely, sticking my tongue out at her as I snatched it up.

Me, spiteful? Well, I _nev'ah_.

Then I realized I would have to _do_ something with that datapad, and turned it on with a sigh, eyes still wandering to the bounty of metal heaped in the crates.

_Shepard,_

_Cerberus wants to make sure their assets are protected, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you are one of our assets. As are the crew you have gathered to you. The items we have procured for you in this box are our way of hurrying things along. After all, you of all people realize the protection of your associates shouldn't be hampered by things like structural integrity. Or sentimentality._

_The Illusive Man_

I tossed the datapad down onto the nearest table with an exasperated sigh, shaking my head. With a confused look, Miranda reached for the pad, and I watched her face as she read the message.

"What has he done to anger you now, Shepard?"

I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly none the less. "Miranda? As much as you try to play the chesty, ditzy stereotype, none of us believes you're stupid. So, you tell me. What could dear old Tim possibly be saying with all that politically correct and sarcastically vague wording?"

She watched me for a minute, noting my half-smirk with a small nod, before shaking her own head in turn. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't use it, Shepard."

"Well, what have we _here_?" The awed voice of my turian counterpart drew my attention for a moment, his eyes roaming the inside of the case. I took the datapad from Lawson, tossing it to him.

"Timmy dearest thought we needed new armor, since certain crew members haven't _fixed_ theirs yet." He caught my gaze, serious beneath the laughter, and gave a small shift of his eyes to let me know he understood. The datapad's message of, 'we still have a mole willing to talk' was annoying, but not unexpected. We couldn't convince every person on the ship that we had their best interests at heart no matter what we said or did.

But the deeper message, the one that implied that the Illusive Man might know a little too much about how close Garrus and I were becoming, and didn't approve of me being distracted by attachments? Yeah. While the implication he thought he owned me was annoying, the farther insult that I couldn't even be bothered to look after my closest ally's basic needs? Well that just _royally_ pissed me off.

I was distracted from that revelation as turian talons moved across my vision, moving the cushioning aside to reveal a set of armor that seemed to be meant for that said turian, a black and orange combo that would have been breathtakingly gorgeous, if only...

"Are they _trying_ to get me shot?" Garrus' voice still held it's normal sardonically playful tone, but there was an edge to it that implied the question might not be all in fun. "It practically glows in the damn dark! How could I ever maintain a covered sniper position in that gear?"

I laughed, reaching past him to pick up the matching orange visor with a grin, "Hey, at least they color coordinated." I stopped, looking at it for a minute, before almost giggling as I anticipated Garrus' next response as I tried the device on experimentally.

"Since you _do_ keep threatening to buy me my own visor, how do I look?" I tilted it to the side, balancing the too large band across my head as the visor tried to drop around my shoulders. Kasumi, who had come in almost on the heels of the leviboard, snorted. "Vibrant orange? With your hair?"

Another voice chimed in, "See EDI, what did I tell you? All couples end up dressing alike in the end." I glanced up in something akin to shock, momentarily taken aback as I stared at Joker, his actual form leaning against the wall and watching the proceeding with an amused expression.

Tali's comment was a reflection of my own thoughts as she said, "And what could _possibly_ have drawn you out of your lair?" I smiled as I heard the teasing note in her voice, loving how it seemed everyone was getting into the spirit of the planned day. Tensions almost seem to drift away as we took the opportunity to relax around each other, under the forced rest of our continued repairs while we were docked at Omega (which _may_ have been conveniently delayed to keep Lawson off my ass). It was giving the crew a chance to unknot their worried stomachs, forcing them to rest and recharge for the next set of disasters that were coming. And there was _no_ doubt in my mind that those challenges were going to be tenfold worse than what we'd already faced.

My attention was drawn back to the pilot and the quarian as he responded, "Even I have to hit the head sometime. Care to give me a hand, Tal?" He winked, thoroughly enjoying his ever tasteless supply of innuendos, before his gaze shifted to the far right of the room. His expression dropped just a tad as he did so, and he cleared his throat experimentally.

Ignoring the change, I picked up the proverbial sword and parried, "So, you're saying that I should just go ahead and get you a Red Queen shirt and get it over with?" As I spoke, I turned slightly to see what had shaken him, and caught sight of Samara gazing intently in our general direction for a moment before closing her eyes in meditation once again. I turned a raised eyebrow to Tali, who shrugged, then Garrus, who had schooled his face into a mask of non-chalance even _I_ couldn't read without effort.

"Your adrenal and stress indicators have risen at an alarming rate, Officer Moreau. Perhaps you should consider allowing them to resume their normal levels before initiating further disagreements?" The look of irritation on Joker's face as EDI spoke made her comment even more amusing, and I snorted, momentarily shoving the little episode with Samara to back of my mind.

"Since when did that bucket of bolts start sounding like a damn person." The newest person to enter the room caused a frantic cough, quickly muffled, from the back of the crate where Gregson and Connors were patiently awaiting the order to discard the crates. While I wasn't entirely sure which of them it had been, I was almost positive the probably still healing nose of the engineer was the catalyst of said noise. I grinned again.

"She did sound a little smug, didn't she, Jack?"

"Yep. All worried about her breakable boyfriend..."

"She can't be smug," Joker muttered, "she's an A.I. program, not a person." I stifled a laugh, unable to help myself as my brain supplied a reference from its neverending store of quotes.

"Officer Moreau is correct. Emotional responses are outside of the behavioral blocks allowed by my programming."

"Which is why you sound so sad and annoyed right now, right NnB? Some blocks they are turning out to be," commented Tali, with only a small hint of the mistrust she still felt for the A.I. Still, she seemed at least somewhat amused by the conversation, more than I could have said when we picked her up on Haestrom.

The laughter, which had started as a small bubble, had been building to a point it was either share the reason or just fall helpless to the floor. I chose the former.

I barely contained my chuckles as I spoke, "So, let me get this straight. 'She doesn't get happy; she doesn't get sad; she _just runs programs_?'"

Joker facepalmed, groaning loudly. "I'm going to the bathroom, then I'm going back to my hidey hole 'til the movie starts. No way I'm sticking around if you're _already_ making Johnny 5 references."

I laughed, gesturing towards the metal boxes with a flourish.

"Dig in, everybody!" I called gleefully, watching as Joker hobbled towards the elevator still shaking his head, "let's get this stuff distributed and out of the way. Need to get our little theatre put together. Last call for movie picks!"

* * *

#####

* * *

"Okay. So I have to ask," I commented to Teandra as we sorted through the last of the gear we'd strewn about the floor in haphazard piles around us, sitting to examine each one. And yes, I was still eyeing the orange and black 'gift' warily. "Why is this day such a big deal to you? I understand that it _is_ , considering how hard you fought Miranda for it, but I want to make sure I really get why."

She sighed, a heavy sound, but not without a certain amount of humor. "Didn't you ever wonder why I remember things, and know about things, most of humanity doesn't? How I know about all that outdated crap that the others laugh at?" She raised an eyebrow at me as she broke down a weapon as big as one of Wrex's arms, giving a satisfied grunt as she examined the inside.

I shrugged, "Not really. I've always just thought of it as a Teandra thing. Who you are."

She chuckled, "Typical." She paused, thinking, "Well, you already know about Jackson, and the way our little group looked out for each other. I think I may have even mentioned the fact that we lived in an abandoned library." She looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. She stared back down at the cannon-thing in her hand, something that must have been a prototype since it didn't resemble _any_ weapon I'd ever seen before, as she continued.

"Well, that library was a remnant of a society long gone. The world, for the most part, had moved forward. Anyone who didn't? Well, that's where the gangs came from." She rolled her eyes, laughing somewhat as she reached up to play with her hair absently, "That library was everything a girl with no school could ask for, and Jackson and Elayne," a small, bittersweet smile touched her lips at their names, "took full advantage of everything we could finagle to work with the power we stole. The tech the library used was, well, ancient. But there were so many things it gave us in return: movies, books, games no one had ever heard of, history of a life no one but the scholars remember. I'm not sure if anyone could ever truly realize how many mistakes a species will repeat again and again until they have the history in front of them. That time, those people, were living, breathing things in that building, and they captured me like some lovestruck Casanova conquest. I devoured it all, hungry for a life that it seemed none of us would ever have a chance to know. It sang of happiness, and beauty, and peace... everything our lives weren't." Her voice had taken on an almost rhetoric-like tone; soft and sincere, nostalgia dripping from every word.

My mandibles twitched slightly, the equivalent of one of her half-smiles, "If I know anything of history as a whole, little Spectre, then I'm sure it wasn't nearly as fun for the people who _lived_ during the time you longed to be a part of."

She snorted. "I know that, but back then? It was sometimes all I had. I loved the Irregulars, but deep down I knew that I'd have to grow up someday. I never figured I would be so young, though." She paused again, the silence hanging heavily in the air this time, as she set the now-reassembled weapon to the side and her hands dropped to her lap. Her eyes weren't far behind, "Is it so wrong that I just want to rest, Garrus? To have five minutes where everything I do isn't tainted by gang-banging or Reapers or fighting through gunfire to save a civilian who's already gone," she said, sighing once again. "I try not to ever let on, but the weight of saving the galaxy is almost always there, like my own personal One Ring. Then again, Frodo got to sit down at the end; apparently real heroes don't get the luxury. Even the everyday kind."

I stared at her, rolling my eyes. "I doubt anyone would call you an everyday hero, Teandra."

"Yeah, well, YOU know I don't think they should be calling me one at all."

"Let's say we agree to disagree?" I countered.

She smirked, "Fine. But I'm officially naming you my Samwise Gamgee. He did all the fucking work anyway."

I stood, reaching down to help her do the same. We piled her gear, and all the weapons, onto the now empty levipad, then both grabbed an armful of my own stuff. "So, then who gets to be Gollum?" I asked jokingly.

She stopped, looking back at me contemplatively. Then, she grinned wide, and I echoed her with a chuckle as she opened her mouth.

"Grunt."

* * *

#####

* * *

That day, as movies rolled across the wall of the galley, will always stand out among my memories as a shining and unblemished example of how the galaxy could truly be, if only we'd all fucking shut up and let it get there. The cheers and groans (and the occasional foodstuffs, both levo _and_ dextro) thrown at the screen bound us closer than anything except blood shed; and even that would have been challenged by the camaraderie which permeated the men and women of the _Normandy_ as the three _Star Wars_ movies ended, soon followed by _Blasto the Jellyfish_ (an apparently new favorite of Grunt's). After that, an old vid of Kasumi's called _The Italian Job_ , which for some reason Joker seemed to enjoy almost as much as _Star Wars_. They kept elbowing each other throughout, laughing, until Joker had to make a run for the nearby infirmary because she hit him at the wrong angle.

Amid jeers and catcalls, the loudest of which seemed to be coming from Connors, Kasumi handed him off to Chakwas' care, the end credits rolling as she did so.

"Alright, guys. What do we want next..." I stopped scrolling the movie picks on my omni-tool, voice incredulous. "Alright, smart-asses. Who put _Twilight_ in here?"

"What's the problem, Commander? Don't like sparkly vampires?" The dynamically destructive duo in the corner exchanged a look, Gregson watching me with particular interest as his partner baited me. I'm pretty sure he was waiting for me to draw my pistol.

"What kind of sick shit are you into, Connors? I don't know about you, but I prefer my movie choices to contain more entertainment than a teenage girl's delimma of choosing between necrophilia and bestiality."

"So, wouldn't that make Grunt Team Jacob?" Gregson called, to general laughter from some of the crew, and downright confusion from the rest. Guess my old-fashioned ways hadn't _quite_ caught on with some of my shipmates.

_Everyone's a critic._

"Does anyone mind if _I_ choose the next selection?" came a quiet voice from Garrus' right, Tali's voice barely heard over the general clamor. I placed my fingers to my lips, giving an ear-splitting whistle to quiet the boisterous group.

"Hold up, guys! Got a possible movie choice!" I looked back to Tali, "What you got in mind, Tal?"

" _Fleet and Flotilla_ ," she glanced at Garrus intently, and I could almost see the mischevious grin that had to have been plastered across her face. I returned the unseen look, ignoring the general dissent at the choice of a movie touted for its realistic portrayal of "turian-quarian" relationships.

"I _like_ this idea..." I responded, flashing a look towards Kasumi, who seemed to also be part of the joke the rest of us had already figured out. At least, those who had seen it.

Thirty minutes later found us with a somewhat less crowded galley, a sufficiently large crowd of giggling girls (plus Miranda, who couldn't help but crack a smile every now and then, giving me the impression I was right about her not being quite the Ice Princess she pretended to be) making up the majority of it.

"What do you know? Quarian anatomy looks remarkably similar to human, doesn't it?" I leaned my head to the side, eyes never leaving the screen. I couldn't speak for relationships, but I was certainly getting an education in turian-quarian _relations_ as the two character continued their quite _graphic_ display onscreen. "What do you think, Kasumi? Could that position be even _remotely_ comfortable?"

The thief's voice rang of unspoken laughter, for all her incredulous tone, "I think the better question is 'would that position be _possible?'"_

I snorted. "Oh, no, it's _possible_." I glanced at Garrus salaciously, a look he deliberately ignored as he focused his attention straight ahead with determination. So I tried harder. "You just need _flexibility_." I turned my own attention back to the screen, munching on my popcorn, but just couldn't miss seeing a taloned claw gripping the chair beside me.

_Shepard: 1; Vakarian: 0._

* * *

#####

* * *

The day wore on towards evening, evidenced more by the slowly emptying galley than any sort of "time" determination, the final movie came up to be chosen. I had been saving mine for last, knowing the subject matter would send most of the crew running for their bunks in boredom. Just to be sure, I filled in the gaps in dialogue for _Check and Mate_ with comments like, "That _ben'jee_ should have never fallen for that knight's bluff. Such a damn rookie move." And, "Did they do **any** research into chess before sending this to final cut? I'm almost insulted."

While the comments themselves were somewhat true, their real purpose? To clear out the room completely. Why? Well, Shepard underestimated exactly how much I was onto her little game. Tali may not have realized it when she teasingly added her favorite vid to the list, but I'd already seen _Fleet and Flotilla_ more than once, thanks to it being one of Jintah's favorites.  But, why spoil their amusement? And ok, seeing exactly what she'd do when I didn't respond to her baiting would also make an educational experiment in reading her, a valuable commodity when her teasing began.

As it was, by the somewhat anti-climactic ending of _Check and Mate_ , it was just the two of us left. We were studiously avoiding each others gazes, identical expressions (if not actual facial indicators) of stubborn amusement on our faces, watching the credits roll. A silence ensued, and with a grin I increased my breathing pace slightly, knowing she'd pick it up, until finally I heard the words I'd been waiting for.

"Fuck this. You win."

Before I could react or respond, she was on top of me, legs straddling me as she kissed me deeply, somehow avoiding the sharpness of my teeth as she found my tongue, biting down on it as she grabbed my shirt and pulled me upright. Her mouth left mine reluctantly as we gained our feet, but that didn't stop her taking first one step, then another, back towards the elevator with me in tow, mandibles flaring in a grin.

"What gives, Shepard?" I asked teasingly, "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to wonder if you've been drinking again."

She took another step, her blue eyes never leaving mine as she replied with an answering smirk, "Nope, just craving the touch of this sexy guy I know. A bit of a tease, but I can make him regret that..."

"Is that so?" I stopped moving, forcing her other hand to move to my shirt to pull me farther, making her work for each step as I gave her a playful grin. "Will this be a repeat of last time? You know, some drunk, alien chick sticking her tongue in my..."

"TMI, people. TM-fucking-I!" Jack's boots stomped by on the way to the food storage cabinets, snorting in annoyance. "Get a goddamn room! I'm planning on eating in here, and dinner and a show weren't on my agenda. Find somewhere else to fuck. "

Teandra chuckled, unperturbed, "Jealous, Jack?"

The biotic grabbed a beer and flipped her chair around, straddling the back as she took a swig. The girl's feral grin was almost a smile, at least, the closest that Jack ever got when not destroying things, as she thunked her bottle down on the table. "If you'd ever fucked a turian Shepard, you wouldn't be asking that."

Teandra opened her mouth to respond, but I never gave her a chance, pulling her around the corner to the elevator and silencing her with a kiss of my own as we waited for the doors to open. I drank in her softness, her warmth, as Jack's laugh followed us around the corner and Teandra grinned against my lips.

"Distraction tactics are beneath you, Vakarian."

"So shoot me," I responded, tracing a talon down the side of her shirt, "Assuming I don't have you begging me before the night is over." My brain, which should have been whirling with doubts, was consumed with one thing: need. A fire for Teandra's body, to feel her flesh against mine all over again, and the very memory of that shower was bringing to mind all kinds of things we hadn't done or explored.

And this time? There was no alcohol to keep us from indulging in all those fantasies.

The door pinged open, and we both almost fell into the elevator, her spinning me as we did so until it was _my_ back against the wall this time, her hands burying themselves beneath my fringe forcefully as her mouth found my left mandible, drawing a moan from me as my clawed talons grabbed her from behind. I indulged in the velvety softness of her mouth for a moment before shoving her back, pressing her against the opposite wall with the bulk of my body as my mouth found her neck almost instinctively, nipping lightly as traced the outer edge of a single breast slowly but forcefully with one hand, trying to drive her beyond ability to counter by forcing my dominance on her bit by bit.

I moved farther downward, breathing across her collarbone, talons now tracing the the softness of her inner thighs as I traced them under shorts, forcing another gasp from her.

 _I've got you now,_ the more primal side of my turian nature thought, _mine..._

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind before her hands moved to my waist, scratching forcefully as she gripped my top once again, dragging it over my head frantically, soft lips moving to kiss along the plates of my chest. She gripped my waist again, turning to shove me against the wall she'd just left, no tenderness in her motions. She wanted me, needed me, and I craved her in a way I had never lusted after any woman before. Gentleness was not on the agenda as she clawed and bit her way back to my other mandible, nails and hands kneading from the back of my waist to the front, my body almost succumbing to the animalistic nature of her seduction. But I held on, and once again, as the elevator slowed, the door kept us from our games.

She leaped up, wrapping her legs around my waist, forcing her mouth against my throat as I moved forward without hesitation, the layout of her quarters almost as familiar as my own. The steps posed little obstacle as my hands once again gripped her behind forcefully, my body collapsing against the wall next to the couch. Her shoes had disappeared somewhere along the way, and the pliable skin of her feet dug into my already sweating back as I stayed forced against them, unable to find the willpower to move those last few inches to the couch. The inviting feel of her hot and wet through her shorts, of her own frantic breathing and small whimpers of need, were almost driving me insane with the craving to touch her skin to skin.

I nibbled my way across her shoulder, occasionally allowing myself to taste the sweetness of her skin with my rough tongue, ylang-ylang filling my nostrils as I took her shirt gently in my teeth. Too distraught to bother figuring out the workings, I fumbled desperately for a minute before she dropped to her feet with a small smile, reaching down and hooking the bottom with her own hands, her chest bouncing slightly as her arms lifted over her head with what felt like an achingly slow speed. The red material of her remaining clothing gave her pale skin a flush to it that begged me to press myself against it, to rub the roughness of my skin against the lace, to reach out and trace the sensitive nubs I'd discovered during our shower with light pressure from sharp talons.

With the memory of her face as I had tortured her drawing a sharp heat towards my plating, somehow still in place, I couldn't resist giving in to this desire; my hands moving to rake a thumb across them as I moved to stroke down to the outside of her waist, one final moan of pleasure making my final doubt drown in passion. I pulled us both to standing, my hands moving to the clasp on the front of the remaining clothing over her upper body, wanting to free her breasts completely, to see if I could arouse her as much with my teeth as with my talons.

As the magnetic clasp came apart with only a small pull, her skin exposed more fully in all its soft, strange, and exotic glory, I felt more than saw something fall between us, a thunk drawing both our gazes downward.

There, on the multicolored carpet that separated us, lay the pink switchblade I was more than a little familiar with already. The blade had swung free of its housing, sitting at an angle that showed the black and shining blade, glinting with all its evil and destructive history. I heard an intake of breath that had nothing to do with passion, that tasted strongly of fear and hatred, and I looked up to see cerulean eyes that were glued to the knife like it was a lifeline that would save her.

Or an enemy that would betray her.

* * *

#####

* * *

I stared at the fallen weapon, fighting with everything I had as my world began to crumble, my surroundings disintegrating in front of my eyes as the memory took hold. It buried me in emotions, in the horror and revulsion of my childhood, in sensations both wonderful and sinful as my hands moved of their own accord.

_Sex is a weapon… a tool. The most powerful one in your arsenal. Not many are strong enough to use it as such, but you will have no such qualms, my Widow. You will be better than all of them…_

The figure in front of me, my _afeni_ , he was fading, to be replaced by a kaleidoscope of images, mirage of murders committed for my teacher. Blood, and sweat, and tears, and the scent of passion filled me from the core, but Red always demanded a tribute for being called forward to use the weapon of seduction.

A death, a sacrifice for the violation of self. This she only tolerated for a price, and her shackles only held if I had a means of hiding the key.

A means that was removed by sobriety.

The almost unbearable heat my body had held began to be replaced bit by bit by a frigid and familiar rage, my teeth clenching into a barely concealed snarl as I moved towards the enemy in front of me, determined to exact my revenge for his insolence. Then barely, just barely, a flash of grey caused me to pause as the angry detatchment gripped me with insistence.

I heard a returning growl from within my head. _He's had his fun already, while you held me at bay during that shower. Now, he dies._

A new sound, a new entity, cut into our mental tango. "Teandra, are you okay?" That voice, I knew that voice. It tried to permeate the frigidity of my soul with warmth, with _love_.

I couldn't see him, though, couldn't see anything other than a blood haze that had begun to encompass me completely, wrong and yet so agonizingly familiar.

 _He doesn't love you…_ she whispered, _he's just like all the others, under it all. One day, he'll betray you, and you'll be all alone with me once again._

I railed against that thought, trying desperately to put a face with that voice, a name to my companion…

"Little Spectre, answer me…" There were hands gripping my shoulders insistently, but I shook them off, still wrestling against the instinct to respond to the touch with violence, my hand starting to move reflexively towards my fallen weapon. But there was a slowness to my movements that my adversary saw, kicking the blade away.

My adversary… NO… my _partner_ … he was my partner…

_Do it now. Kill him, before he realizes what he's up against. They trained you for this, remember? Turians have a weak spot that requires almost no pressure, just under the auditory canal on the left side of the throat. One hit…_

Wait... _turian… she said turian…_

My hands had already started moving, my body tensing to launch at the man in front of me, but as my mind latched onto that single word his face suddenly became clearer, just as I readied myself to spring.

 _ **Garrus…**_ NO!

I pulled back, stumbling, and instead launched myself over the coffee table, making for the couch. I scrambled into the corner, almost falling off once as I desperately fought Red with everything I had, fought the memories, fought Finch and all his training in order to save the one thing more important to me than anything else I had ever known or encountered. I felt my sanity slipping in leaps and bounds, and called it a price well paid as voices assaulted me from all directions, but remained unable to control my actions.

 _You shouldn't have done that…_ her voice cooed.

 _And yet it's so adorable you keep trying at this…_ His voice berated me, disapproval radiating through the playful tone.

"STOP IT. LEAVE ME ALONE," my bellowed cry was met with a laugh from both parties. "I _won't_ let you do it!"

I buried my head in my knees, hiding from everything, and felt sanity leave completely. But if Garrus, my _afeni_ , my dear one, walked away alive? It was a price worth paying.

I'd never regret the loss.

* * *

#####

* * *

She sat on the corner of the couch, arms around her knees and head buried as she rocked back and forth, but at least the shouting had ceased.

"Teandra..." She shook her head, not looking up. I had to get her attention, had to break through whatever horror gripped her so forcefully. With Mom, calm reassurances had always worked when she forgot where she was, or who she was. I needed to make sure she didn't notice my uneasiness while I tried to bring her back.

There was one thing I hadn't tried yet as I watched her spiral downward, worried about upsetting her all over again. But under the circumstances, I didn't see where I had a choice. It was the only thing I had that she would associate with her life before it fell apart.

"Tandy." She looked up, eyes desperately wide in whatever nightmare she now inhabited, still rocking. But at least we'd made progress.

"Tandy, it's okay," I repeated with a little more certainty. She still didn't answer, though, and I was reaching for my omnitool when she finally spoke.

"You called me Tandy. You're _his_ friend, aren't you?" Her face flashed something I'd only seen a few times before, an emotion I could only guess was the unadulterated love she'd been able to feel before her childlike innocence had been stolen from her. Her voice was that of a youngling as well, high-pitched and full of wonder and fear.

 _His_ friend... Jackson. Had to be, considering his wife was the origin of the address I'd used for her.

"Yes, Tandy, I'm his friend."

"Shhhh," she said forcefully as she placed a single finger over her lips, still not ceasing her back and forth movement, before regripping her knees. "Can't be too loud. Then He'll find us. I don't like it when He finds us."

"Who, Tandy?" I took a careful step forward, but this time she didn't notice.

"Daddy... no. _Not_ Daddy. But He says He loves me, that I'm special... His special girl. Does He love me? There's so much pain, and I'm so confused..."

She wasn't even talking to me anymore. I had to get her attention again, get her focus back on the present.

"Tandy... little Spectre... can you hear me?"

She looked at me again, and her face seemed to age by ten years at the second address, though I couldn't tell you how she managed it. She snapped her head away from me, almost turning it completely to her left; but her eyes cut to the right as she did so, keeping me in her sight, eyes still wide in her madness.

"You might be _his_ friend... but I'm supposed to kill you. Do you know why?" Her voice was back to its usual pitch now, but held a vehemence and disorientation that confused me. She hadn't even sounded like that the few times the Widow had surfaced.

"I... don't know," I answered truthfully, actually scared for the first time since the whole incident had started. We had been sparring a long time, but if she were actually focused on killing me a victory would not be so easy to attain. I might end up hurting her, and that was something I wasn't sure I could force myself to do.

"I don't know either," she responded, then said rebelliously, "but I'm _not_ going to. You seem nice," she started shaking her head back and forth frantically, saying, "I won't do it. I won't let _them_ make me do it."

She stopped rocking, hands clenching almost reflexively as she started murmuring. Coming closer by a step, I realized it was her saying over and over again, in a sing-song lilt, "No, no, no I won't."

She kept repeating herself, again and again, until I finally took another step, bringing me only one last foot away from her. Apparently, though, that was too close once again.

She started screaming... a high, keening sound of pain and fear unlike anything I'd ever heard from her, more like an animal cry than a human voice. Then, she stopped, though only long enough to whisper, "Don't come any nearer. I can't keep her bound with you so easily within her grasp."

I started to reply, only to be interrupted by her screams once more.

 _That's it_ , I thought, backing away again in hopes of easing her panic, _I'm in_ way _over my head here. Even Mom's episodes weren't like this._

I que'd up my omnitool, saying, "EDI?"

"Yes, Officer Vakarian?"

"Get..." Who? Mordin? Not a chance. He'd just want to dissect her emotional response, and would probably set her off all over again with the frantic nature of his diagnosis. Chakwas? This wasn't a physical problem, and that was that woman's specialty. Specialty, wait… the answer was almost as clear as a supernova when I realized that.

"Wake up Chambers. Tell her it's an emergency."

"Right away, Officer Vakarian."

I only prayed Kelly would get here in time.


	19. Alternative Therapy

_So how long did I expect love to outweigh ignorance?_

_By the look on your face I may have forced the scale to tip_

_Shame pulses through my heart from the things I've done to you_

_It's hard to face but the fact remains that this is nothing new_

_I left you bound and tied with suicidal memories_

_Selfish beneath the skin but deep inside I'm not insane_

Avenged Sevenfold - "Almost Easy"

 

**Chapter 18 - Alternative Therapy**

It felt like I could have gotten to Kelly's room and back three times over before the yeoman finally arrived, though in actuality it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. I suppose time will screw with you when panic sets in, which you would think any number of battlefield scenarios would have taught me. Then again, the stakes weren't usually so personal. It was just as I was beginning to wonder if I should have called Chakwas or Mordin after all when I heard the familiar _swoosh_ of the door. She was still in her sleepwear, but was also carrying a small case that appeared to be medicinal. As the redhead entered the room, I allowed my eyes to move away from Teandra long enough to confirm it was indeed her before flicking them back. She was too unstable to take any chances with.

"What's going on, Vakarian?" she asked as she stood at the top of the stairs, taking in the form of the Commander as she spoke. While she couldn't have been happy with being cajoled out of bed in the middle of the night by an overzealous A.I., she was as fully awake and aware as any soldier would have been in a similar circumstance. I breathed a small sigh of relief before considering her question, watching as Teandra continued to rock back and forth, still murmuring to herself.

"I'm not really sure, Chambers. I've dealt with trauma before," _That's an understatement, "_ but never on this level. Any tricks I know about how to handle it involve using it to _break_ a suspect." _Or calm Mom down, but that's a whole different story, and not one I think I'll EVER feel like sharing with anyone outside of Shepard._

She took several steps down before "Looks like PTSD. What triggered the episode?"

"PTSD?" My tone was one of disbelief. The same thing that had taken the Sidonis I knew from me on Omega was now trying to do the same with my Teandra? _Oh hell no_. Kelly misunderstood me, though.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder," she glared at me, snapping quickly, "are you going to help me diagnose her, or ask questions?" I started, looking at the woman sharply. Gone was the somewhat flighty individual of the galley and CIC, to be replaced by a calm and professional woman who seemed completely sure of herself in a situation that was damn near tearing me apart. I refocused, realizing that my instincts had been much more accurate than I ever could have guessed.

"We were starting to get, er, _intimate_ when something set her off." I'm not sure why I was so hesitant to explain what had been happening, considering the Commander and I were both in a quite obvious state of undress. But instinct or not, Kelly _had_ made known, pretty publicly in fact, her attraction to me. I fidgeted.

"She tried to kiss you." It wasn't a question. Her knowing stare would have made that evident even if her tone hadn't already.

"I wish I could say that was all, but yeah. Thing is, it seemed to be her switchblade that pushed her over the edge. It fell out of her bra…" I waited for confirmation that was the right word, given in the form of a curt but encouraging nod, before continuing, "and when she saw it, she lost it." I glanced quickly over to the corner where it had ended up, confirming it was still there, noticing the dark sheen was now dull in the dim lights. I looked back to Chambers.

She studied me critically for a few seconds before commenting. "She attacked you, didn't she?" Once again, while phrased as a question, the tone implied otherwise.

I glanced back towards Teandra, who had given no sign she had been listening at any point throughout the conversation. And yet somehow, I doubted that was true. She was still Commander Shepard, after all. _At least, I hope she is._

"She started to, but it was almost as if there was an internal battle between two parts of herself, and one stopped her before she could even lay a hand on me. She dove onto the couch," I gestured minutely to the rocking figure, not wanting to startle Teandra, only to find her head once again buried in her knees "and hasn't said moved since."

She studied me, "What else did she do, or say? Anything?"

"She recognized I had some sort of connection to Jackson, and I think she still believes Finch is alive. Not much else." It never even occurred to me that the yeoman would most likely have zero idea who those names were or what they represented until after I'd spoken, but I never should have doubted the level of Chamber's nosiness. She pursed her lips for a moment, thinking.

Then she nodded, finally, and laid the case she was carrying on Shepard's desk. It was opened to reveal several syringes and small glass bottles. Expertly, Kelly chose one from each collection and inserted the needle into the top, drawing a measured amount of liquid out with a steady hand one by one. It seemed to be a primitive setup.

"Why not use one of the painless auto-injectors?" I asked, nodding at the device nestled in the kit.

She flicked her eyes at me before resuming her work, drawing liquid 'til the clear tube was three-quarters of the way full. "More familiar mode of delivery for the memories she's stuck in. Will probably disorient her less than the more modern medical tech."

"She won't let you touch her," I said, not sure how I knew that, but positive none-the-less. Call it arrogance, but I doubted that Teandra's aversion to contact was against me personally at this point.  A sentiment Chambers disagreed with, apparently.

"I think she will. It's _you_ that triggered this response. She has no desire to bed me, or kill me. She shouldn't see me as a threat." Her eyes were still focused on the syringe, flicking the tip to get rid of the trapped air as she continued, "Speaking of which, put a shirt on, Vakarian. I want her sole focus on me."

I sputtered at the blatant statement, before finally trying words again, "But…" Then shook my head as I moved to do as she'd advised. I snagged my tunic from the floor near the door, still smelling of sweat and ylang-ylang, and slipped it on in a rush. For good measure, I snatched up that thrice-blasted blade and tucked it away as well, where it wouldn't risk coming under the Commander's gaze again.

Kelly, when I turned back around, was moving her gaze between the two of us. Observing, calculating, watching… this was definitely NOT the persona she had been portraying to the crew, and my estimation of her skills went up another notch. But still… could she handle something this important, this serious?

My hesitation must have shown on my face.

"Trust me." She replied almost dismissively, moving to sit on the far edge of the couch. She watched to see if her movements startled her patient before scooting a small bit closer. Her voice evolved into a gentle yet firm version of itself, one that seemed to be the specialty of doctors and teachers for younglings.

"Commander Shepard?"

"She's responding to Tandy," I supplied. Kelly glanced at me, furtively shaking her head at my interruptance, before repeating, "Commander, can you hear me?"

To my wonder, Teandra looked up just a little bit, two small and withdrawn bits of blue just barely visible over her arms, eyes locked on Kelly.

"Do you remember me? You do, don't you?" Shepard nodded, eying the needle now, her distrust as obvious as her fear in spite of her admittance of knowing the yeoman.

"I need to give you some medicine. A sedative." The redhead continued to eye her dubiously, gaze flicking from Kelly, to the needle, and back again. Something between a whimper and a growl came softly from her, muffled by her position against her still clothed legs.

Kelly continued in a calm voice, "Just a little pinch and it's all done. Is that okay?"

Teandra seemed to mull this over for a second, considering, until finally shaking her head.

"It'll help you sleep, Commander. Are you sure you wouldn't you like to rest for a little while?"

Shepard considered again, a little longer this time, until finally she extended a single arm tentatively. Kelly slid down the couch until she was inches away from Shepard, until finally she was within reach. I just _knew_ something had to go wrong, but much to my surprise all Teandra did was jump slightly when the needle went in, right before she started shivering as her body began to relax and her adrenaline tapered off bit by bit.

"You look a little cold, Commander. Would you like to go lay under your covers?"

She shook her head, no, and Kelly gestured for me to retrieve the blanket instead. As I approached to drape it around her, though, she grabbed my hand, still not speaking. She pulled me down to sit next to her, wrapping up in the blanket with shaking arms before tucking a portion of it under her head, which then was unceremoniously lain into my lap, as if we'd done that a million times. I shot a glance at Chambers, finding no censure or warning there, only pity. As such, I reached down and began stroking her hair as Kelly watched on, smiling approvingly as Shepard's breathing slowed and her eyes closed almost instantly, light snoring permeating the room shortly thereafter.

With a sigh, Kelly zipped the small case back up, glancing at me pointedly.

"I think we might need to have a little talk, Garrus. Is that okay with you?"

* * *

"So you don't think she'd be open to more extensive therapy than her and my little talks, or meds, then?" Kelly had drawn her feet up underneath her, elbow propped on the back of the couch to support her head in her hands.

"Not a chance. She barely uses medigel, and the counselors after Akuze left her more than a little skeptical of head doctors." I glanced down, "Honestly, I'm surprised to find out she's even talking to _you_ about any of it."

"Not sure medication is the answer, anyway, since the condition doesn't seem to be one I would consider controllable by adjustments to neurological chemicals. Otherwise, you can bet Ms. Lawson would have noted it in the Commander's medical files." Kelly hesitated for a minute, tapping her fingers against the small black case she still held, finally glancing up from her spot on the end of the couch. "There's one other thing that might work, if you two are planning on trying to work through this, but I'm hesitant to even suggest it. For one, it only works in _very_ rare cases. For another, I need to ask you a question before telling you more." She looked at me critically, "How much experience do you have with S and D?"

I stared at her, not quite open-mouthed (though it was a struggle), taken aback by the sudden change in the conversation topic. That was probably near the top of the list of questions I'd never expect from a human, even Shepard when she was messing with me. Then I snorted, shrugging.

"Submission and Dominance? Isn't that a bit of a personal question?"

She tilted her head at me slightly, narrowing her eyes before going on in an brusque tone, "Do you _want_ my help, or not?" She tossed her case on the table, crossing her arms.

I lightly brushed a talon across Teandra's forehead, reassuring myself that she truly was asleep before daring to respond to the question, and finding myself grateful for probably the _millionth_ time in my life that turians couldn't blush.

" _Yes_ , I've had experience. Are you satisfied?"

She smirked knowingly. "Usually, in that regard with turians. Hence the question; but I needed to be sure you weren't an anomaly. Almost every one I've ever known has dabbled in it somewhat, since predator and prey games play so heavily in the turian arousal and attraction process."

I groaned, mortified. "Damn, Kelly, why don't you try a little harder to make it sound dirty and clinical?" I found my free hand was more than capable of facepalming. This conversation was _soo_ not going in any direction I could have expected. Her smile, if anything, widened slightly when I looked back up.

"No, _clinical_ would be me explaining how asari physiology has made the males of any species the galaxy holds open to human women, despite ongoing taboos in multiple cultures, since they share similarities in physical form. It's actually quite interesting how the men in general have adapted to the facial features alone. There is a study going on at the moment exploring the reaction of varying male test subjects to human facial reactions, everything from smiling to masturbation…"

"Get to the point, Chambers," I interrupted, though I had to admit that I was mildly relieved that at least _some_ of her personality traits were still around. Helped me feel slightly less like a failure in the 'reading people' department.

"Right, um," she hesitated, as if trying to remember what we were discussing, "Well, _clinically_ speaking you can't diagnose someone's illnesses, or decipher their personality, unless you know their motivations. Figure out what makes them tick; this includes sexual tendencies and preferences, which vary from person to person. I already know _more_ than a few of Shepard's, since we had a pretty lengthy discussion about cross-species intercourse over dinner a few weeks back."

Teandra's comment after toying with the plating around my waist of " _Wow. And I thought she was kidding..."_ made much more sense, now.

"You did _what?_ Do you have _any_ idea what she did to me with that information?"

She laughed quietly, commenting, "You're here, so I'd _assume_ she put it to good use." My next question, where Kelly had gained the knowledge herself, seemed unnecessary after a half a seconds thought. Still, I found myself mulling the information over in my head before gently extracting myself from under Shep, pillowing the blanket carefully. Chambers watched me wordlessly, simply waiting as I contemplated, scooting only inches away and dropping my head heavily into both hands.

I collected my tattered thoughts together after a full minute, then looked up and asked the question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to, "What does this have to do with submission and dominance games, Kelly? You aren't suggesting that I..." I couldn't say it, so I took a deep breath and tried it a different way, "that she...?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm suggesting." She waved at the sedated form of the Commander with her free hand, "Rape trauma, when not dealt with, can re-hardwire the victim's brain. Many victims become hypersexual, subconsciously figuring if they can't control whether or not they have sex they might as well make the best of things. She has that indicator, and a few others. Also, you two have joked and sidestepped those games before, if she told me truthfully. How many times has she made references to your handcuffs?"

"Actually, I prefer _boska_ hide. Easier to cut off in an emergency," I said absently, my thoughts whirling. You could tell Kelly was trying to dumb down the medical terms for me, which I usually would have resented, but at the moment I was grateful for it. _I am_ not _having this conversation. I am really not considering... what? What I've thought about doing since Omega?_ I snorted, shaking my head.

"Okay, stop dancing around, Chambers. How will bedroom games," _which I don't think I'd ever truly thought about humans even playing_ , "help her overcome this?" I gestured at the room at large, indicating the sheer scale of it all, before I reached down to resume stroking the hair of the sleeping Commander. She sighed softly in her drug induced sleep, but otherwise didn't stir.

"In rare cases, dominance play helps work with that rewiring, allowing the sub to let go and enjoy themselves without reliving the trauma. There is also the possibility that it may trigger another episode, however, which is why I wouldn't have suggested it with an inexperienced dominant who would be unable to assess, adapt, and react to the situation." Kelly's eyes were unwavering as I looked up to meet them, absent the mischief that I was sure would be there despite the topic.

My mandibles twitched as another question rose. "Wouldn't it make more sense for her to be the Dom?" I tilted my head, asking with genuine curiosity, "In joking with others, which in retrospect I now realize might not have _all_ been banter, that was the impression she always gave off." _Especially with Alenko_ , I thought with an unexpected half smile.

One Kelly ignored. "Her past experiences always involved alcohol to dull her senses, or were as a result of the needs of the baser personality she displays on the battlefield, which is going to be much more 'brat-like'. If this is what you want, what you _both_ want, you have to understand the psychology of not just human rape, but her individual experiences, and overcome them."

_Baser personality... what a strangely benign way to talk about the Widow. Was seriously hoping that bitch was gone for good. Still, 'brat-like' I may be able to work with._

"Personally, if I ever have a say in the matter, I'm condemning all rapists to the same execution I reserve for slavers. Just ask that guy on Omega. Oh, wait, you can't, can you?"

She rolled her eyes, recrossing her legs. "Quit changing the subject, Vakarian"

"Can you blame me?"

"Yes. Now shut up and listen. She's under so much pressure on a daily basis to be in charge of _everything_ , she'd naturally gravitate towards sub behavior anyway to alleviate stress in sexual situations. Submissives are able to know they are giving their partner exactly what they need without having to play games or guess, and since their own arousal is usually derived from the pleasure of their partner, it takes the pressure off of the dominant as well. A true submissive to dominant relationship, if there is the right amount of trust involved that everything stays in the bedroom, is the perfect situation for a person in a command position like hers. Power executives on Earth were the first to make public this tendency. There was even a television show based on this idea. 'Beggars and Choosers,' I think it was called..."

She must have sensed my growing impatience at her history lesson, because she cleared her throat, getting back to the point.

"As I was saying, though, when rape trauma is present, this doubles the likelihood that the victim will be unable to play any role but submissive, due to the ingrained emotional response of that kind of trauma. There was a doctor back on Earth that put it best, I think. What was his name… right," she snapped her fingers, waving her hand at me, "Michael J. Bader. He even wrote a book about it. He said, 'It is quite common that children who were abused grow up and develop sexual fantasies loosely based on their abuse. The adult indulging in a fantasy of sexual surrender or abasement is actually saying to herself: " _I'm recreating a terrifying or traumatic scene, but this time I'm in control because I'm scripting the scene_ ..."'"

 _I did mention the_ experienced _part, right? I'm sure I did._

I crossed my arms, mirroring her, "Because the submissive is the one who holds all the power, and can stop the actions with the safeword." It wasn't a question.

"You _do_ have a brain under all that brawn, don't you?" she responded, smiling, "That's right. And the weird thing is, that type of response increases exponentially in the case of childhood assault, multiple rapes, or situations where the victim had a respect or emotional connection to the attacker. Or, come to think of it, if force or threat of force is used." She shook her head, "I've read her files, all of them, even the ones she doesn't know I've seen. It sounds like this Finch character may have been that influence."

"That was him, alright. On all counts." I paused, digesting what she'd just said with total disbelief. Finally, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, I restated what she was saying. "So let me see if I've got this right: You want me to tie Shepard up, tell her I'm screwing her whether she likes it or not, and wait to see what she does?"

The grin that Kelly shot me really should have bugged me more. It really, really should have. But my brain was otherwise occupied with the dream I had been fighting off the entire conversation:

_Her hands are secured to the headboard, the silken bindings ripped from the garment she had been wearing so shortly before. I have a hold of that glossy auburn hair, talons gently caressing the soft skin of her back, the motion eliciting a shiver from her. Then, ever so slowly, I enter her for the first time, reveling in the softness and the never ending heat. It feels like home, the sound of her calling my name the most erotic thing I've ever heard. I lean forward, possessively nipping her shoulder as I move within her, enjoying the control as much as the feel of her clenching around me with so much need…_

I had been a darker man then. She'd been dead. There was nothing wrong with a little nighttime fantasizing… and then she'd shown back up. One look at her face and I'd buried those images back down deep, sure that there was no possibility that those sorts of things were appealing to the soft skinned human even if Teandra and I were to ever consider... things.

And here was a doctor basically prescribing it word for word. The irony was almost beyond belief.

"Well when you put it that way... yep, that's exactly it," the yeoman's words pulled me forcefully back to the present, and she continued with another chuckle, "But don't forget that safeword."

That was it. I'd had more advice and ideas thrown at me during the conversation than any man should be expected to handle. I needed to think, to absorb the information. But first, a subject change… "I think I've got one she'll appreciate. 'Apples.'"

A laugh, followed by another eye roll, "She subjected you to _Castle,_ too, didn't she?"

"However did you guess?" I thought for a minute. "But you've forgotten one other little problem, Kelly. That 'baser personality?' It's been hiding pretty well since she was rebuilt; or, at least, I haven't noticed its presence, even last night. But then again, the she _also_ has a tendency to pop up when things get heavy, as you yourself pointed out. I can't ignore her existence."

"And you shouldn't. But _if_ this idea works, and I say if because I _did_ point out that this only works in rare cases, it should cow that part of her, too."

I sighed heavily, not sure I would get an answer to my next question, or if I truly wanted one.

"What _is_ the Widow, anyway? Did you two explore that in your little _discussion_?"

Kelly was non-plussed, or decided to ignore my jab at her ever so helpful conversation with Shepard. "Not directly, but there was _some_ indirect discussion, and I have a few ideas on that. Normally, I wouldn't tell you even if we had, since it violates doctor-patient confidentiality. However, considering she keeps insisting she isn't my patient, I'll make an exception this time.

"It's not _actual_ dissociative identity disorder, or schizophrenia, or any other number of mental disorders that give specific 'personalities.' Why? To put it simply, because she is aware of the other woman's presence, and they 'speak' to each other as if they are two people in the same body. For all intents and purposes, they are the same woman, just different halves of the same whole; her conscience and her survival instinct. You are probably the only man who knows even _close_ to everything about her past, but even with that information I couldn't diagnose her as insane. Otherwise, I would be suggesting medication or surgical treatment instead of this," She clicked her tongue for a moment, as if contemplating how to put her thoughts into words. "She is simply torn in her desires, between the person she wants to be and the person she has always been told she should be. When she figures out where she wants her life to go, and what direction she wants to take in it, I have a feeling that the 'Widow,' as you called her, will either fade away in obsoletion or become a more ingrained part of who the Commander is."

Having garnered that answer, I braved another one. "Another thing I don't understand," I pointed out with a sigh, hating the words even as I spoke them, "But how can someone attain her level of command with such extreme problems? It's not like turians are immune to mental disabilities and disorders, but we wouldn't give someone with them a command position."

Chambers, now lounging against the other end of the couch, tapped her chin thoughtfully. "With her history, I'm actually surprised she's as sane as she is. And from what you've both told me, it sounds as if the only time the sort of reaction she had tonight pops up is on the battlefield and during sexual intercourse. On the battlefield this so called 'Widow' would be a boon, as I would guess Akuze probably indicated. The second would seem more problematic, but..."

Something in my brain clicked, truly clicked, that moment. That revelation hit me hard, my head dropping back against the top of the couch while I studied the ceiling.

I finished the statement for her, "...it only becomes an issue if she's sober." I felt, more than heard, Kelly move her head in a nod.

Riza, _this was_ _my fucking fault, wasn't it_? At least, tonight's little portion of hell for Teandra was.

I inhaled, then exhaled a shuddering breath. This was… well beyond anything I could have planned for. Well beyond easy… but we'd both said we didn't want or expect easy, hadn't we?

I shoved that aside, eyes still studiously skyward, and redirected my thoughts back to the original point. "So it's that simple? Shepard gets happy and that crazy bitch in her head goes away?" I looked back at the yeoman.

"Is happiness ever a simple thing, Officer Vakarian? How many people do you know who can say they are truly happy with themselves or their lives? I know only two, and I myself am one of that number." She grinned, unabashedly, and for the first time since she'd entered the Commander's quarters I truly saw a glimpse of the Kelly Chambers we all knew. "For all the criticism I receive for my tastes, preferences, and social demeanor, I can promise that when I fall asleep at night, I'm pleased with the woman I am. As is my partner, for a while, if truth be told."

She winked with finality, getting up to leave, and I looked at her with new eyes. "You know what, Kelly, I think we've all got you all wrong."

She fixed me with a smirk, "That's what I intend. People who don't like talking to 'counselors' will also tend to be the type of people that will say things around a bubbly personality and figure she'll forget it all by tomorrow. The only people who know about my little act are in this room, actually. That was why Shepard and I had dinner in the first place: so she could make sure I wasn't a Cerberus plant to spy on her, once she'd begun to realize I was playing the crew. It only took ten minutes with me for her to realize that concept was ridiculous; I just really, really like people. However, it put us in a perfect venue to discuss her little problem with _you_." She grinned, "It was quite an interesting discussion for her, I think, since I doubt she'd ever been able to have that conversation with a truly experienced xeno before. She was intrigued by more than a few things we talked about, to say the least." She winked again, "You are one lucky guy, if you take her up on her offer. I passed on quite a few fun tricks."

I was sure my carapace would have damage the next day, as hard as my taloned palm came against it. "Thank you _sooo_ for that little tidbit of information, since I wasn't _already_ almost driven to distraction around her."

She laughed, moving towards the door. "Stay with her, if it's not too much trouble. She's going to want to see a friendly face when she wakes up, and yours would be especially nice, since she's going to feel guilty about how things turned out." She hesitated, "Thanks for calling _me,_ Vakarian. I know you've been avoiding me since that whole 'big hug' comment."

She exited without waiting for an answer, silence descending on the room, leaving me with only my thoughts and Teandra's heavy breathing. I resumed stroking her hair, allowing myself the luxury of time to process everything that had happened.

* * *

Mom had been prone to an episode or two in her time, as the disease that gripped her took more hold and she became less and less lucid. True, the scientists speculated it was due to a physical problem, but that didn't change the fact the similarities between the two women were there.

" _Pika-pooka, they stole my rite-band." The voice on the other end of the line is angry, almost panicked, as I take the call. I try to keep my tone level and calm as I respond._

" _Mom, you quit wearing your rite-band over twenty years ago. Nobody stole it."_

" _Why would I quit wearing it? I'm telling you, someone broke in and stole my rite-band. I'm calling an officer to come investigate."_

" _And Mom_ _, I'm telling you, you stopped wearing your band when you separated from Castis. You keep the bracelet in the top of your closet, left hand side, with your rifle and the clan_ Terrenta _veil." My calm insistence seems to have no effect on her, her temper rising in spite of my acceptance._

" _It is in no such place! And why would you talk such nonsense about your father? We aren't..." she stops, almost whispering in sorrow as she seems to remember. "Wait... we did, didn't we?"_

" _Yes, Mother."_

" _I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to..."_

" _It's okay, Mom. Are you better now? I go on shift in ten minutes, but I can get one of the guys to cover for me."_

" _No, no. I'm fine. Solana is on her way..." her voice is hurt, still somewhat confused, but I know Sol handles her better when she's like this._

" _How soon will she..." I hear my sister's voice call out in the background, "Mom! I'm home!"_

That evening, after a tense shift with Shelaya, I'd had a long and heartfelt discussion with Sol about Mom's condition. Her memory was getting worse, and no amount of depression over Mishta's death could explain that. We'd both agreed that she would probably need to see a specialist soon, just to rule out anything major. The results had been completely unexpected, and we'd been moving from doctor to doctor and expert to expert ever since. That was seven years ago, and life had never been simple ever again after that diagnosis.

My experiences with Mom were the only reason I wasn't in a complete panic at that moment. Well, that and the knowledge that it was _my_ insistence that I wouldn't attempt to have sex with Teandra if there was alcohol involved that had caused the whole damn situation. She had tried to warn me. Had all but ordered me to look at the information on her last encounter while sober; but I had been stubborn about it, determined I could handle whatever she could do to me. On one level, I had been right, but it didn't change the fact that the sleeping form next to me would still be awake and (relatively) sane if I hadn't pushed my morals on her.

One way or the other, though, nothing could be settled until she woke up in the morning. And she certainly didn't need to spend the night on the couch.

I stood slowly to avoid disturbing my charge, turning to look down at the woman. The drugs were obviously not the most restful form of sleep for her, because even now her face was contorted in pain as I watched; an unfamiliar sight, since I always cherished the innocent smile she bore while at rest. It was just another indicator of her state of mind, and I'd be damned if I'd let her face this alone. Not when there was something I could do about it, as reluctant as I was to introduce the things Kelly had talked about.

I scooped up the tiny form in front of me, not for the first time wondering at how someone who was so small could have caused such a great wave of change throughout the galaxy at large. Her breath was light against the thin material of my undershirt, and I lay her down on her bed, curling around her in the most protective gesture I had at the moment.

What Chambers was asking was ludicrous. Submission and dominance games… well, it's not like I hadn't already pictured the idea. But I never intended to _ever_ introduce them. Fantasies were _exactly_ that, nothing but mental porn, and the idea of Shepard even finding them appealing was… what? Crazy? I wasn't sure I even knew what that word meant any more.

But none of that mattered, because there was one fact that I couldn't overlook.

I had vowed, back at the beginning when she'd found me on Omega, that my new purpose in life was to protect her at all costs. This, under it all, was just an extension of that. I would do whatever it took to save her, even if it were only from herself.

* * *

#####

* * *

I opened my eyes with reluctance, trying to decipher the sluggishness of my movements and thoughts, and the clenching of my heart.

_Something's wrong._

I felt Garrus' familiar warmth at my back, his still form a situation that caused me both wonder and trepidation. I wanted to turn and look at him, but there was a blanket of dread over me that was more powerful than the sedative. My limbs weighed as much as an Elcor each, my mouth and head full of cotton.

Wait… _sedative_... why had I been sedated? For how long?

I remembered the movie day clearly. I hadn't been drinking, so the fuzziness in my memory made no sense. I remembered grabbing Garrus on the way upstairs, remembered removing our clothes in our frantic state... then… Red coming forward, trying to...

"Oh Goddess, _no_. No, nonononono. What did I _do_?" My breathing took on a frantic pace as I fought the drugs, turning in a panic to search for a pulse, or breath, or _anything_. His eyes were closed as his face came into view, and my heart all but stopped anew at the stillness of his body.

_Please, don't let me have hurt him. Please. I can't lose him. Not like this._

"Garrus?" My voice was all but a whisper, an almost silent plea. Or a prayer. One that was actually rewarded, for once.

His eyes flew open without hesitation, face indecipherable as his gaze met mine. Relief washed over me, leaving me weak as I rushed to find out exactly what she… no, what _I_ , had let loose. I raised the arms that had been so heavy before with new vigor, resting a palm behind each mandible as I met his eyes.

My voice was a rushed, harsh sound, breathing becoming less important than my questions. " _What_ did I do to you, _afeni_? What did I _say_? What _happened_? Are you hurt? Please tell me I didn't do anything to..." My rambling voice rose at the same pace as my hysteria, my hands wandering over him all the while to reassure myself that there were no wounds, no blood, no under-plate bruising caused by my cybernetic strength.

His arm on my waist got stronger, if that were possible, as he said one simple phrase in a soothing voice, "I'm fine, little Spectre." He placed his forehead firmly against my own, continuing, "The question is, are _you_?"

I watched his face, looking for the fear that would have to paint it, or the condemnation of the murderer I was. But try as I might, I couldn't find it, mostly because it wasn't there. The only thing I saw was patience as he awaited my answer. The answer to a question that was ridiculous for him to be asking in the first place.

"Am I _okay_? I don't _know_ , Garrus. Answer my questions, and I'll answer yours." I still couldn't see the rest of his body, under all the covers, but his breathing didn't seem to be impeded now that I was listening for it, and the rise and fall remained steady and unhitched.

"Nothing. You did nothing."

"But..."

"No buts. We aren't going to discuss it right now, other than for me to let you know that you didn't hurt me, or manage to scare me away."

I tried to pull away from him, only to find his hold unbreakable. Or maybe it was the sedative. Yeah, we'll blame that, and not the treacherous part of me that didn't want to run away anymore, in spite of the gut-wrenching feeling that some irrevocable damage had been done. I buried my face in my hands, only to have the talons on my waist move as he pulled them away. He moved up, placing his forehead against mine once again, eyes shining when he spoke.

"Everything is just as it was this morning, little Spectre. I'm still here, we're both still alive, and that's all that matters right now. Is that clear?" There was a commanding tenor to the familiar flange, as well as a solid conviction radiating from him with every word. I felt my heart start to calm its insistent and panicked beating, because the one unalienable truth in my life was that if Garrus said everything was fucked to hell, it usually was. But if he said everything was alright, it would be.

And yet...

"We can't do this again… I can't… I can't risk…" I held back tears, but only just, as my breathing stuttered bit by bit from the effort. I had never, in my entire life, been as horrified as I was in that moment. No reaper, no collector, no thresher had ever caused me the level of panic I was now experiencing at the mere thought that Red had tried to hurt, no _destroy_ , Garrus. My warrior and my companion. My partner, comrade, and friend. And she'd almost succeeded.

"Shh… later. Not now. Now isn't the time, Tandy."

I stared at him, eyes watering anew at his use of Elayne's nickname. It reassured me more than I probably had any right to be.

"Okay." I dragged in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then repeated. The third breath became a yawn as I exhaled, and his arms encircled me once again, cradling me into his chest. I managed one more word, whispering, "Later."

His chuckle rumbled next to me. "Get some rest, little Spectre." His voice was still calm, still indulgent, almost… happy?

I shook my head, peeking up. "I'm scared I'm dreaming. I don't want you to leave."

I felt his mandibles flutter across my cheek as he spoke from so close, his eyes closing in a gesture of unearned trust. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. Now sleep."

I ignored the implications of his statement, not caring at that moment what it meant, as my heart cracked piece by piece by his very continued presence. I let my eyes close, my cheek warmed by his breath. His heartbeat, so much faster than a human's, but so familiar, was the lullaby that granted me rest.

A dreamless, healing rest.


End file.
